Captain  Cranberry 


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THF  AMAynN^  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  Seven  males,  five  fe- 
lOEi  /\lTli\£iV/iiO  males.  Costumes,  modern:  scenery,  not 
difficult 


males.     Costumes,  modern;   scenery,  not 
Plays  a  full  evening. 


TUr  rADIKirT  MIMICT17D  Farce  in  Four  Acta.  Ten 
inL  LADlIlEil  ImillOlClV  males,  nine  females.  Coe 
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riors.    Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 


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r  pTTY- '  Drama  in  Four  Acta  and  an  Epilogue 
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Ten  males,  five 
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No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


Captain  Cranberry 

A  Cape  Cod  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 

KS  5o03 

a  ' 

By 
GLADYS  RUTH  BRIDGHAM 

Author  of  "Leave  it  to  Polly,'"  "A  Regular  Scream,"  "Not 
on  the  Programme,"   "A  Modern  Cinderella,"  "On  the 
Quiet,"  "A  Regular    Rah!    Rah!    Boy,"  "Sally 
Lunn"  "Six  Times  Nine,"  "  Cupid's  Partner," 
"Her  First  Assignment,"  "A  Case  for  Sher- 
lock Holmes,"  "Ring-Around-a-Rosie," 
"Three  of  a  Kind,"  "The  Turn 
in  the  Road,"  "The  Queen 
of  Hearts"  etc. 


BOSTON 

WALTER  H.  BAKER  &  CO. 
1917 


Captain  Cranberry 


CHARACTERS 


Cranford  Berry  (Cap'n  Qv^A^iBEKsa),  keeper  of  the  Bay  Point 

Light. 
Abner  Freeman,  a  retired  whaler. 
Obadiah  Daniels,  postmaster. 
Lemuel  Sawyer,  constable. 
Samuel  Sawyer,  his  son. 
Lee  Gordon. 

Peter  Pretzel  Pomeroy. 
Nat  Williams. 

Ariel  Freeman,  Abner's  daughter. 
Hepsy  Sawyer,  Lemuel's  wife. 
Cynthia  Tinker. 


SYNOPSIS 

Act  I. — Living-room  in  Cynthia's  home,  Bay  Point,  Cape  Cod. 
Act  n. — The  same  ;  the  next  morning. 

Act  in. — Room    in   Abner   Freeman's  old  fish-house  on  the 
shore  ;  late  afternoon  of  the  same  day. 


Copyright,  191 7,  by  Gladys  Ruth  Bridgham 

Free  for  amateur  performance.     Professional  and  moving  picture 
rights  reserved. 


Captain  Cranberry 


ACT  I 

SCENE. — Living-room  in  Cvnthia  Tinker's  home.  Exits 
L.,  R.  and  C.  There  is  a  fireplace  ^.  front.  There  should 
be  a  stairway  at  L,  c,  but  it  is  not  absolutely  necessary,  as 
another  exit  may  be  used  representing  exit  to  up-stairs 
rooms.  There  is  a  large  center  table  with  a  lighted  lamp 
upon  it.      Old  style  chairs. 

(As  curtain  rises,  Cynthia  Tinker  stands  by  the  fireplace. 
She  is  removing  some  vases  and  pictures  from  fnantel  and 
packing  them  into  a  box  which  is  on  the  floor  near  the  fire- 
place. Cyn.  is  about  forty,  rather  small,  bright  and  en- 
ergetic.     There  is  a  knock  at  the  door  c. ) 

Cyn.     Come  in  and,  for  the  land  sakes,  shut  the  door  quick 4. 

Enter  Hepsy  Sawyek,  c.      She  is  about  thirty-five,  tall  and 
wiry.     She  wears  a  fnan's  oil  coat  and  hat. 

Hep,  (as  she  enters).  Well,  I  should  say  !  (Slams  the 
door.)     Ain't  this  a  night  though? 

Cyn,  It  certainly  is.  Are  you  crazy,  Hepsy  ?  Or  is  some- 
body sick?  Whatever  on  earih  brought  you  out  in  all  this 
storm  ? 

Hep.  You,  Cynthy  !  (Removes  coat  and  hat.)  I  thought 
I  might  be  able  to  help  you  some  an'  I  couldn't  bear  to  think 
of  you  alone  here  on  your  last  night. 

CvN.  (taking  hat  and  coat).  That's  more'n  kind  of  you, 
Hepsy.  There's  a  roaring  fire  in  the  kitchen  stove.  I'll  hang 
your  coat  up  to  dry,  and  put  on  some  water  to  make  a  cup  of 
tea. 

(Exit,  R.     Hep.  walks  to  fireplace  and  stands  warming  her 
hands.) 

Rt enter  Cyn.,  R. 

Hep.     You  are  really  goin'  in  the  morning,  Cynth  ? 


4  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Cyn,  {energetically).     I  really  am. 

Hep.  Well,  how  you  can  be  cheerful  about  it  beats  me  ! 
How  do  you  know  you'll  like  it  over  to  Falmouth  and  how  do 
you  know  as  you'll  get  along  with  the  people  you're  going  to 
keep  house  for  ? 

Cyn.  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Hepsy,  but  I've  got 
to  give  it  a  try,  I  ain't  got  money  enough  to  live  on  an'  I 
can't  set  down  in  this  house  and  starve.  I  can't  eat  the 
shingles  nor  the  wall  paper.  I'm  doing  the  only  sensible 
thing  there  is  to  do. 

Hep.  Trust  you  to  do  that,  Cynthy.  Can  I  do  anything 
to  help  you  ?     Hev  you  got  everything  packed  ? 

Cyn.  Yes,  all  that  I'm  going  to  pack.  I  was  just  finishing 
the  last  few  little  things.  Cap'n  Daniels  thinks  he  can  let  the 
house  all  furnished. 

Hep.  {explosively).     What? 

Cyn.  So  that  I  won't  have  to  bother  to  have  my  things 
moved  out  an'  some — some  day  {looking  around  the  room  with 
a  sigh),  I  may  be  able  to  come  home  an'  everything  will  be 
here  wailing  for  me. 

Hep.  Cynthia  Tinker,  do  yon  mean  to  say  that  Obed 
Daniels  has  let  this  place  already  ? 

Cyn.     He  thinks  so. 

lAv-V.  {excited).     Who  to  ?     Do  tell,  Cynthy  ! 

Cyn.     I  don't  know  who  it  is. 

Hep.  Don't  know  ?  My  land  !  Do  you  mean  that  you 
didn't  ask  him  ? 

Cyn.  I  haven't  seen  him  yet.  He  jest  sent  me  a  message 
by  Bennie  Hill. 

Hep.     And  you  ain't  the  slightest  idee  who  it  is? 

Cyn.     Not  the  slightest. 

Hep.  My  land  !  I  shan't  sleep  a  wink  to-night.  Land 
sakes !  Who  could  it  be,  Cynth  ?  To  want  a  house  all  fur- 
nished ?  Why  in  the  land  o'  goshen  ain't  they  got  furniture 
o'  iheir  own?  Must  be  somebody  awful  queer  coming  to 
town.  Good  land,  that  reminds  me  !  I  most  forgot  to  tell 
you  !     Arey  Freeman  is  at  home. 

Cyn.     Why,  what  do  you  mean,  Hepsy? 

Hep.  Jest  that  !  She  come  on  the  afternoon  train.  Her 
eyes  hev  give  out  and  the  doctor  won't  let  her  study  any  more 
this  year  an'  she's  come  home. 

Cyn.  Why,  I  can't  believe  it.  Are  you  sure,  Hepsy? 
Have  you  seen  her  ? 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  5 

Hep.  Oh,  yes,  I've  been  over.  ]\Iy  Sammy  told  me  first 
an'  I  declare  to  goodness  I  didn't  know  vvheiher  it  was  the  truth 
or  one  of  Sammy's  fairy  tales.  Sometimes  1  think  that  young 
one  ^vill  be  the  death  of  ine  an'  Lem  before  we  ever  get  him 
raised.  It's  the  most  wearing  thing  !  He  keeps  us  guessing 
all  the  time.  You  can't  tell  more'n  half  the  time  whether  he's 
telling  the  truth  or  lyin'  ! 

Cyn.  Oh,  Hepsy,  you  shouldn't  speak  that  way  about 
Sammy.  He's  a  dear  little  fellow  and  awful  good-hearted, 
and 

Hep.  {interrupling).  Now  don't  you  go  to  takin'  his  part ! 
He's  all  you  say  maybe  but  that  don't  make  it  out  he  can't  tell 
the  biggest  yarns  of  any  young  one  that  walks  !  And  wliat  do 
you  suppose  ?  His  father  went  into  the  store  the  other  day 
and  found  him  telling  one  of  his  tales  to  the  Center  Church 
minister.  Lem  like  to  have  swooned.  He  said  he  guessed 
things  had  gone  jest  about  far  enough  and  he  walked  Sammy 
home  in  a  hurry,  I  tell  you  !  And  do  you  know  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Peters  told  Lem  he  ought  not  to  blame  Sammy.  Well,  Lem 
was  struck  in  a  heap.  "  Not  blame  liim  fer  lyin'  ?  "  says  Lem. 
"He  don't  mean  it  that  way,"  says  Mr.  Peters.  "  The  boy 
is  a  wonder.  Why,  genius  just  burns  in  him  and  he  must  let 
it  out.  If  he  keeps  on  this  way  you  may  have  a  famous  writer 
in  your  family  some  day."  Wal,  I  declare  to  goodness,  Lem 
nearly  went  crazy.  He  warmed  Sammy  plenty  tiiat  night  and 
then  he  set  a  shingle  up  on  the  kitchen  mantel  and  told  Sammy 
to  keep  his  eye  on  it,  and  when  he  felt  genius  burning  to  jest 
remember  that  with  his  father's  help  that  sliingle  could  make 
things  a  good  deal  hotter  for  him  than  ever  genius  thought  of 
doing.  A  writer  !  My  land  !  Lem  can't  stand  anytliing 
sissy,  you  know.  The  Sawyers  have  always  been  able-bodied 
men,  and  able  to  do  a  day's  work  as  long  as  they  breathed. 
Why,  Grandfather  Sawyer  lived  to  be  a  hundred  and  three, 
and  weighed  two  hundred,  an'  the  day  he  died  he  worked  six 
hours  and  ate  seven  pancakes  and  five  hot  biscuit  for  his  tea. 
That  was  his  last  night  on  this  earth. 

Cyn.  {liryly).      I  should  thought  it  might  have  been. 

Hep.     Hey  ?     What  did  you  say,  Cyntiiy  ? 

Cyn.  {hastily).  I — I  was — going  to  ask  you  about  Ariel. 
You  went  over  ? 

Hep.  Yes,  as  soon  as  I  made  up  my  mind  that  Sammy  was 
telling  the  truth  I  started  right  over  and  what  do  you  think  I 
found  ?     Five  women  there  ahead  of  me  !     Ain't  that  terrible? 


O  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Shouldn't  you  think  they'd  have  let  her  alone,  jest  gettin'  home 
that  way,  an'  she  looked  tired  to  death,  though  I  must  say  she 
is  prettier' n  ever.     An'  I  says  to  her,  says  I . 

Samuel  Sawyer  {outside).  Maw  1  Oh,  maw  !  Be  you  in 
Miss  Cynthy's  house  ? 

Hep.  {shirting  up).  Good  land  !  Sammy  !  What's  he 
want?  {^Going  tozvard  door,  c.)  It's  a  pity  a  body  can't 
go  calling  without  bein'  chased  up  by  the  family  !  {Opens 
door.)    What  do  you  want  ?     No  !     You're  too  wet  to  come  in. 

Cyn.  [quickly).  No,  he  isn't!  (^Goes  to  door.)-  You 
come  right  in,  Sammy.  I  don't  mind  a  little  water.  I've 
lived  too  close  to  it  all  my  life  to  be  afraid  of  it. 

Enter  Sam.,  c.  He  is  about  nine  years  old,  stnall/or  his  a,^e 
and  rather  delicate  looking.  He  is  a  decidedly  pretty  boy 
and  in  decided  contrast  to  eitlier  another  or  father.  He 
zuears  raincoat  and  hat  and  rubber  boots. 

Hep.     Take  your  feet  right  off  ibis  floor  ! 

Sam.  {iincertaiuly  lifting  first  one  foot  then  the  other). 
How'll  I  do  it?     Where'U  I  put  'em,  maw? 

Hep.  {^pulling  him  onto  a  rug).  Stand  on  a  rug  !  My 
land!  Did  any  one  ever  see  sech  a  young  one?  What  do 
you  want  o'  me  ? 

Sam.     a  man  has  stole  father's  pipe. 

Cyn.  (astonished).      Good  land  ! 

Hep.  {sternly).  Now,  Samuel  Henry,  that  will  do  right 
now  before  you  go  any  further  ! 

Sam.  'Tain't  no  story,  maw.  It's  so.  I  was  a-goin'  along 
an' 

Hep.  (warningly).     Samuel  Henry  ! 

Sam.  (beginning  to  whimper).  It's  so,  maw.  I  tell  you 
it's  so ! 

Cyn.     Gracious,  Hepsy,  I'd  listen  to  what  he  says. 

Hep.     Listen  to  sech  foolishness? 

Sam.  'Tain't  foolish,  maw.  Pa's  over  to  the  store,  you 
know  he  is. 

Hep.  (disgusted).  Yes,  leave  it  to  your  pa  to  hang  out  at 
the  store. 

Sam.      An' — an' — it  isn't  pleasant  out 

Cyn,  (laughing).  No,  I  guess  it  ain't.  That's  one  truthful 
story,  Sammy,  if  you  never  tell  another. 

Sam.   (beginning  to  groiv  encouraged).     An' — an' — pa  for- 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  •  7 

got  his  pipe  an'  he  sent  me  home  for  it,  an' — I  was  goin'  along 
holdin'  the  pipe  in  my  hand — an' — an' — you  can't  see  a  thing 
out,  ilie  fog's  so  thick— an'  a  man  come  right  out  the  fog  an' 
grabbetl  the  pipe  out  o'  my  hand  an'  ran  off  with  it. 

Cyn.   {with  a  gdsp).     iVIy  land  ! 

Hi'.p.  Samuel  Henry,  where  do  you  expect  to  go  when  you 
die? 

Sam.     It's  so  !     It  is  so,  maw  ! 

Cyn.      Well,  of  all  the  queer 

Hep.  Didn't  I  tell  you?  He  jest  lost  that  pipe  somewhere 
and  that's  tlie  kind  of  a  story  he  makes  up,  and  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Peters  thinks  lie  is  smart. 

Cyn.  Well,  my  land,  if  he  can  tell  it  off  as  natural  as  all  that 
and  look  as  innocent  as  he  does,  he  sartain  is  smart.  Sammy, 
you  don't  really  mean  a  man  took  your  father's  pipe  away  from 
yon?     Bay  Point  folks  don't  do  things  like  that. 

Sam.     I  don't  believe  it  was  any  one  in  Bay  Point. 

Hep.  Nor  in  any  other  town.  You  march  yourself  home 
as  straight  as  you  can  go. 

Sam.  No,  no!  1  ain't!  Not  alone!  I  ain't  a-goin'  out 
alone  again  to-night.  He'll  jump  out  at  me  again.  I'm  scared 
an' — an' — cold. 

Hep.  Well,  you  jest  go  an'  tell  your  pa  where  his  pipe's 
gone  to  an'  you  won't  complain  about  bein'  cold  any  more. 

Sam.   {bes^inning  to  cry).     It's  so,  maw  !      It's  so  ! 

Cyn.     My  land,  Hepsy,  he  does  look  scared. 

Hep.  (^grimly).  Yes,  he  knows  his  pa  pretty  well.  Wal,  I 
suppose  I  got  to  travel  along.  All  the  time  I  get  to  make  social 
calls  you  can  put  in  your  eye.  Lem  can  set  in  the  store  and 
talk  hours  on  a  stretch,  but  I'd  like  to  ever  get  a  chance  to  say 
anything.      I'll  get  my  coat.  \^Exit,  R. 

Cyn.  (^goiiig  to  Sam.  and  speaking  coaxingly').  Sammy,  if 
you  lost  the  pi|)e,  why  don't  you  own  up  to  it?  It  would  be 
ever  .so  much  easier  for  you  in  the  end. 

Sam.  {throwing  his  arms  around  her).  I  didn't,  Miss 
Cynthy.     A  man  took  it  ! 

Enter  Hep.,  in  hat  attd  coat. 

Hep.     I'll  see  you  again  'fore  you  go,  Cynthy. 

Cyn.  {going  to  door  ivith  them).  All  right.  My  land  ! 
Ain't  it  thick?  \_Exeunt  Hkp.  and  Sam.,  c. 

Hep.  {outside).  I  never  see  it  worse.  You  can't  see  an 
inch  'fore  your  nose.      Walk  along,  Samuel  Henry  ! 


8  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

(Cyn.  closes  door,  zualks  slowly  to  fireplace  and  puis  some 
things  into  box.) 

Ariel  Freeman  {calling from  outside').  Miss  Cyntliy  !  Oh, 
Miss  Cynthy  ! 

Cyn.  {hurrying  to  door  and  opening  it).  Ariel  !  You 
blessed  child  ! 

£///^/- Ariel.     She  is  about  eighteen  ;  light  complexioned ;  ex- 
ceedingly pretty. 

Ariel.  Don't  touch  me  !  I'm  soaked  !  {Throws  her  coat 
off.)     Will  this  be  all  light? 

{Throws  coat  over  the  back  of  a  chair  and  turns  chair 
toward  fire.) 

Cyn.  Yes,  of  course.  How  in  the  world  did  you  ever  get 
here?     You  can't  see  your  hand  before  your  face. 

Ariel.  Well,  1  couldn't  if  it  was  clear,  so  it  doesn't  make 
much  difference,  but  I  could  find  my  way  to  your  house  if  I 
was  stone  blind. 

{Goes  to  Cyn.  and  throws  her  arms  around  her.) 

Cyn.   {alarmed).     Your  eyes,  Arey  ?    It  isn't  really  serious? 

Ariel.  No,  they  will  come  out  all  right  but  it's  a  good  deal 
of  a  nuisance.      I  can't  see  across  this  room. 

Cyn.  Good  land,  you  blessed  child  !  You  are  sure  you 
will  get  over  it  ? 

Ariel.  Absolutely,  but  it  will  take  time  and  I  have  got  to 
try  to  have  patience.  My,  but  it's  good  to  feel  your  arms 
around  me  ! 

Cyn.  And  it's  good  to  feel  them  there,  but  you  ought  not 
to  have  come  way  over  here  such  a  night  as  this  is  ! 

Ariel.  I  ran  away.  Father  said  not  to  come,  but  they  told 
me  a  dreadful  story  about  your  going  away  in  the  morning  and 
I  just  had  to  see  you-.     It  isn't  true,  is  it? 

Cyn.     Yes,  it  is  true,  dearie.     There's  no  other  way. 

Ariel.  Why,  it  can't  be  true  !  There  must  be  some  way. 
Why,  what  am  I  going  to  do  without  you?  You  are  all  the 
mother  I  have  got,  and  I  need  you  to  help  me  bear  my  troubles. 
Surely  you  could  find  something  to  do  here  in  Bay  Point. 

Cyn.  No,  I  can't.  There  isn't  a  thing.  The  factory  over 
to  Tylerville  has  shut  down  for  good.     Layford  has  failed,  and 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  9 

there  ain't  another  thing  I  can  do  in  my  own  home,  so  I  got  to 
go  out  of  it  to  earn  a  living. 

Ariel.  Some  one  else  will  be  sure  to  take  the  factory  and 
you  can  get  work,  again. 

Cyn.     Some  time,  maybe,  but  I  can't  set  around  and  wait. 

AuiEL.  It  will  be  summer  before  long  and  maybe  you  could 
get  some  boarders. 

CvN.  Now  you  know,  Arey,  that  summer  people  haven't 
begun  to  come  here  yet.  Maybe  they  will  some  time,  but  I 
can't  wait  for  them,  either. 

Ariel.  Well,  1  don't  care  1  It's  simply  dreadful  !  I  know 
you  don't  want  to  go  !  Why,  you  love  this  house  and  every- 
thing in  it !     1  have  heard  you  say  so  time  and  time  again. 

Cyn.  Yes,  you  have,  dearie.  It's — true — {breaking  dowii) 
\  don't  want  to  go. 

AuiEL  (Jiiiee/iiig  by  her).  Oh,  how  selfish  I  am  !  I  was  just 
thinking  of  myself.      I  shouUln't  have  spoken  to  you  that  way. 

Cyn.  I  have  tried  to  put  a  brave  face  on  it,  but  it's  jest 
takin'  my  heart  out. 

Ariel.  You  are  all  worn  out.  1  bet  you  have  cleaned  and 
packed  all  day  !     Haven't  you? 

Cyn.   {faintly').     Yes. 

Ariel.  And  you  haven't  had  a  mouthful  of  supper,  have 
you? 

Cyn.     No,  I  don't  want  anything. 

Ariel.     Yes,  you  do  ! 

Cyn.   {protesting).     No,  I  couldn't  eat  a  thing,  dearie. 

Ariel  {rising).  Yes,  you  could  !  It's  just  what  you  need. 
Now  you  sit  here  and  rest  and  I  will  get  you  something  to  eat. 

Cyn.     No,  no 

Ariel.     But  I  say,  yes,  yes!  \_Exit,  r. 

Cranford  Berry  {outside).  Whoa  !  Port  your  helium  ! 
{Slight pause.  Cyn.  listens  and  dabs  at  her  eyes  with  her  hand- 
kerchief.)    I  say,  Miss  Tinker  !     Ship  ahoy! 

Cyn.  {in  a  shaky  voice,  going  toionrd  the  door).  Ye-es, 
Cap'n  Berry  ! 

Enter  Ber.  He  is  about  fifty,  witJi  gray  hair  and  a  smooth 
face  browned  by  wind  and  sea.  He  has  a  kindly  man- 
ner, a  rough  but  hearty  voice  that  can  be  heard  at  a  long 
distance,  and  he  carries  a  package. 

Bek.      Well,  Miss  Tinker,  how  be  you? 


10  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Cyn,  {s7vallowitig).     Pre-t-ty  well. 

Beu.  Well,  I'm  glad  to  hear  it !  It's  more'n  you're  lookin'. 
Obed  was  jest  telling  me  that  you  are  setting  sail  for  a  new  port 
in  tiie  morning.  I  jest  stopped  in  to  lell  you  I'm  sorry  to  hear 
it.  You've  been  mighty  kind  to  me  since  1  come  a  stranger  to 
Bay  Point,  an'  I  couldn't  let  you  go  'thout  tellin'  you  I  appre- 
ciate it.  {Places  package  oti  table.)  1  brought  you  a  little  fruit 
from  the  store.  Jest  as  a  little  farewell  gift.  1  don't  know 
how  good  it  is.  Obed  don't  keep  much  of  a  assortment  but 
you  can  eat  it  on  the  train  ;   'twill  help  to  kill  the  homesickness. 

Cyn.     Oh-o-o  I     Cap'n  Ber-ry  ! 

[Sits  doiun  and  bursts  into  tears.) 

Beu.  (very  much  upset).  There,  now!  There,  now!  I 
didn't  mean  to  set  you  to  pumping  for  salt  water  that  way  ! 
I  always  was  an  awful  clumsy  duffer  ! 

CvN.  {trying  to  control  herself ).  No,  no,  you're  not !  You 
are  jest  as  kind  as  you  can  be  !  it's  your  kindness  that's  upset 
me.  Pm  awful  nervous  to-night  and  tired  !  1  don't  want  to 
go,  Cap'n  Berry,  i  ain't  leltin'  folks  know  it.  I  ain't  tellin' 
Hepsy  Sawyer  and  the  rest  of  them  but  what  Pm  tickled  to 
pieces  over  it. 

Bek.  Good  idee  !  What  Mis'  Sawyer  don't  know  won't 
hurt  her,  but  what  she  does  know  keeps  pressing  on  her  brain 
until  she  has  to  let  it  out  or  die  from  concussion.  [Glances 
about  the  room.)  You  don't  feel  that  there  is  any  way  you  can 
stay  here  ? 

Cyn.  No,  there  isn't.  I  have  thought  of  everything,  but 
there  is  no  way.  (Ber.  walks  to  the  fireplace  and  stands 
warming  his  hands  and  looking  thoughtfully  into  the  fire.')  1 
love  my  little  home,  Cap'n  Berry.  I  was  born  here  in  this 
house.  Mother  died  here  and  father  and  me  lived  a  long  time 
here  together.  After  father  was  too  old  to  go  fishing  he  still 
had  his  pension,  and  with  what  I  could  get  to  do  we  managed 
to  pull  along,  and  after  he  died  I  managed  to  get  along  by  my- 
self though  it  wasn't  quite  so  easy.  Father  called  this  the 
Anchorage,  and  1  never  supposed  1  would  have  to  leave  it. 
I've  worked  hard  to  slay,  and  it  doesn't  seem  right  for  me  to 
have  to  go. 

Bek.  You  really  mean  that  you  don't  think  it  is  right  for 
you  to  have  to  go? 

Cyn.     That's  the  way  it  seems.     Father  left  the  home  to  me 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  II 

and  intended  I  should  live  here,  and  it  doesn't  seem  right  to 
have  to  leave. 

Ber.     Then  I  shouldn't  leave.     1  should  stay  right  here. 

Cyn,   {^astonished^.     Good  land,  Cap'n,  what  do  you  mean  ? 

Ber.  Jest  what  I  say  !  'Tisn't  a  good  idee  to  do  a  thing 
you  think  it  ain't  riglit  to  do. 

Cyn.  But  land  sakes,  Cap'n,  how  could  I  stay  here  ?  I 
can't  live  on  empty  air,  can  I? 

Ber.  Well,  no,  not  exactly  that.  I'll  tell  you,  though  I 
don't  know  as  I'll  be  very  good  at  finding  the  right  words  to 
tell  you  jest  what  1  mean.  You  say  you  think  it  is  right  for 
you  to  stay  here.  Now  if  you  really  think  and  believe  that, 
why — stay  !  You  say  this  is  your  home  and  a  way  has  always 
been  provided  for  you  to  live  here.  JVIiss  Cynthy,  you  have 
faith  in  something.  All  of  us  have  !  We  all  have  a  Beacon 
light  we're  steering  our  course  by.  Well,  jest  as  long  as  it's 
been  fair  weather  an'  you  had  your  Beacon  plain  in  sight  you 
sailed  along  all  serene,  but  jest  the  minute  the  fog  shut  in  you 
lost  your  grip  on  the  steering  gear.  Miss  Cynthy,  I  reckon  the 
Keeper  of  the  Beacon  expects  you  to  believe  that  He  is  there 
and  the  Beacon  is  shining  jest  as  bright  as  ever,  and  when  the 
fog  lifts  the  rays  will  be  all  the  brighter  to  guide  you  in  the 
rigiit  course. 

Cyn.  {astonished  and  some^vhat  breathless').  But — I  don't 
understand  exactly.     What  do  you  think  I  ought  to  do? 

Ber.  Jest  keep  your  faith  in  the  Beacon  !  Miss  Cynthy,  if 
a  ship  was  trying  to  make  port  and  the  fog  was  so  tiiick  they 
couldn't  see  my  light,  I  should  feel  mighty  bad  if  they  thought 
I  was  laying  down  on  tlie  job  jest  because  the  weather  was 
rough.  No,  Miss  Cynthy,  they  know  I  am  there,  and  the  light 
is  burning,  and  they  jest  stop  a  while  until  the  fog  lifts  and  they 
can  see  their  course  more  clearly.  Miss  Cynthy,  why  don't  you 
jest  stop  a  while  and  say  with  all  your  might — "  this  is  my 
home  in  foul  weather  as  well  as  fair.  The  fog  is  lifting  and  the 
Keeper  of  the  Beacon  is  sending  me  brighter  rays  to  steer  my 
course"  ? 

Enter  Ariel,  r.,  carrying  a  tray. 

Ariel  {gaily).  Now  for  supper !  [Stops  suddenly.)  Oh, 
I  beg  your  pardon.  I  didn't  know  you  had  callers,  Miss 
Cynthy. 

{Looks  uncertainly  totvard  Beu.,  7vho  she  can  see  but  indis- 


12  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 


tinctly.     He  gives   her  one   look,    reels   back  against  the 
viantel  breathing  hard.) 

Ber.    {hoarsely).     Who — who 


Cyn.  {is  upset  herself  and  doesn^t  notice  his  agitation). 
Miss  Freeman.     Abner's  daughter.     Arey,  ihis  is  Cap'n  Berry. 

Ariel.  Oh,  yes,  the  new  keeper  of  Bay  Point.  I'm  glad  to 
meet  you. 

Bek.  (recovering).  Same  to  you,  Miss.  Well,  I'll  set  sail 
for  the  Point,  Miss  Tinker.  I  wish  you  didn't  feel  that  you 
had  to  be  leaving  us  in  the  morning,  but  whatever  course  you 
steer  jest  keep  your  eye  on  the  Beacon  and  1  wish  you  luck. 

{Shakes  ha7ids  with  her.') 

Cyn.  Thank  you,  Cap'n  Cranberry.  {Aghast.)  Oh,  I 
beg  your  pardon.      You  see  so  many  call  you  that  and 

Ber.  That's  all  right  ?  That's  all  right !  I  got  to  be  a 
Berry,  and  I  might  as  well  be  a  cranberry  as  any  other  kind. 
Evenin',  ladies.  \_Exit,  c. 

Ariel  {arranging  things  on  the  table,  and  pouring  tea). 
Here's  supper.  Miss  Cynthy.  You'll  feel  better  after  you  have 
some  hot  lea. 

Cyn.  {looking  after  Ber.).  I — I  believe  I'm  feeling  better 
anyway. 

Ber.  {outside).  Belay  there !  Heave  to !  All  aboard  I 
Gid'ap  !     Now,  we're  off! 

Ariel  {smiling  as  she  listens').  I  like  him,  Miss  Cynthy  ; 
althougli  I  only  saw  him  a  minute  and  didn't  really  see  him  either. 

Cyn.  {sifting  by  table  and  beginning  to  eat).  He's  a  splen- 
did man  if  there  ever  was  one  ! 

Ariel.     Who  is  with  him  at  the  light? 

Cyn.  An  old  shipmate.  They're  doing  their  own  house- 
keeping, an'  I  must  say  I'd  like  to  see  the  inside  of  a  house 
run  by  a  couple  of  men.  Cap'n  Berry  followed  the  sea  for 
years,  and  I  have  heard  tell  that  he  lost  his  wife  and  child  in  a 
shipwreck.  I  don't  believe  he's  ever  got  over  it.  From  some- 
thing he  said  one  day  I  imagine  he's  had  a  pretty  sad  and  lone- 
some life,  but  he  certain  makes  the  best  of  it.  He's  invested 
in  a  cranberry  bog  up  the  cape,  an'  that  and  his  name  was 
enough  to  set  folks  goin',  and  he's  pretty  generally  called  Cap'n 
Cranberry,  but  I'm  mortified  to  death  to  think  i  should  call 
tim  that  right  to  his  face. 

Auir.L.      I  don't  believe  he  cared. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  I 3 

Cyn.  He  wouldn't  let  on  if  he  did.  My  land,  Arey,  you 
ain't  told  uie  a  tiling  about  yourself  yet.  Weren't  it  hard  to 
leave  school?     Won't  it  make  a  difference  when  you  go  back? 

A  KIEL.  No,  I  can  catch  up  with  my  class  when  I  get  my 
eyes  again,  and  they  bothered  me  so  much  1  was  rather  glad  to 
give  up  the  fight  and  come  home.  There's  only  one  thing 
bothering  me.  Father  says  Nat  Williams  is  expected  home  any 
day. 

Cyn.   (^sharply).     Well,  what  of  it  ? 

Ariel.     You  know  what  of  it ! 

Cyn.  Now  see  here,  Arey,  your  father  has  surely  got  over 
that  foolishness.  As  well  as  he  loves  you  he  won't  try  to  marry 
you  to  a  man  you  don't  love.  Didn't  say  anything  to-day,  did 
he? 

Ariel.  No,  only  that  Nat  is  coming  and  praised  him  to  the 
skies,  the  way  he  always  does.  I  can't  imagine  why  he  cares 
so  much  for  Nat. 

Cyn.  {liecidedly).  Well,  you  don't  have  to  even  if  he  does. 
I  don't  believe  your  father  will  start  that  thing  to  going  again. 

Ariel  {ivith  a  sigh).  If  he  does  I  had  about  as  soon  be 
dead.  I  owe  so  nmch  to  my  father,  and  I  want  to  please  him 
but  I  never  could  make  up  my  mind {Stops  abruptly.) 

Cyn.  No,  of  course  you  couldn't.  I  never  was  struck  on 
Nat  myself.     I  can't  imagine  what  ails  your  father. 

Ariel  {rising  ).  I  must  go  back.  Dad  went  to  the  store 
and  I  slipped  out.  {Takes  her  coat  from  chair  and  puts  it  on  ^ 
If  he  goes  home  and  finds  me  gone  such  a  night  as  this,  he  will 
sound  the  fire  alarm  and  get  out  a  searching  party.  {Kisses 
Cyn.)  Good-night,  Miss  Cynthy.  I — I — oh,  I  won't  say  any- 
thing more  to  make  you  feel  badly,  but  I  can't  believe  there  is 
anything  right  about  your  going  away.  I'll  see  you  in  the 
morning.      Good -night.      {Opens  door,  c.) 

Cyn.  Good-night,  dearie.  My  land,  it  grows  worse  !  You 
ought  not  to  try  to  go  home  alone. 

Ariel.     Nonsense!     {Exit.)     I  guess  I  know  Bay  Point. 

(Cyn.   closes  door,    walks   back   to  table  and  pours  another 
cup  of  tea.     She  starts  to  drink  it.) 

Ber.  {outside).      Whoa !     Avast    there  !     Heave  over  your 

anchor  !     Ahoy,  Miss  Tinker  ! 

Cyn.   {surprised).      Yes,  Cap' n.      {Starts  toward  door.) 
Ber.   {entering).     Didn't  expect  me  back  quite  so  soon,  did 

you?     I've  lost  my  pipe.     {Feels  in  his  pocket.)     It's  durned 


14  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

queer !    I  most  generally  keep  it  in  this  pocket.    I  thought  maybe 
1  dropped  it  here. 

{Begins  to  look  about  on  the  floor.) 

Cyn.  (^Joining  in  search).  1  haven't  seen  it.  Are  you  sure 
you  had  it  with  you  ? 

Ber.  Sartain  !  I  never  travel  without  it,  an'  I  declare  I'd 
about  as  soon  go  back  home  without  my  head. 

Cyn.     Land  sakes  !      You  can  buy  another  pipe,  can't  you? 

Ber.  Yes,  but  not  jest  like  this  one.  This  pipe  came  clear 
from  Calcutta  and  it  sartain  is  one  of  my  best  friends.  That 
pipe  an'  me  has  faced  some  black  times  together  and  she  has 
always  proved  a  true  comrade  in  rough  weather.  Well,  I  guess 
I  didn't  drop  her  here.  {Tries  to  speak  carelessly.)  Little 
gal  gone  ? 

Cyn.     Ariel?     Yes. 
•  Ber.  (curiously).     Ariel  ?     That  ain't  no  name  for  a  girl. 

Cyn.  Ain't  it?  I  always  thought  it  was  real  kind  of  pretty 
and  fancy. 

Ber.  Fancy  enough,  but  it's  a  boy's  name.  How'd  she 
happen  to  be  called  that  ? 

Cyn.  Well,  of  course  Cap'n  Freeman  didn't  know  her  real 
name  and  he  said  Ariel  was  some  spirit  of  a  storm  or  a  tempest 
or  something,  and  the  name  seemed  real  fitting. 

Ber.  {with  an  effort).  Ain't — ain't  she  Freeman's  own 
daughter? 

Cyn.  Land,  no  !  Ain't  you  never  heard  nobody  tell  about 
Arey  Freeman  ? 

Ber.  {leaning  against  the  table  and  gripping  the  edge  with 
his  hand).     No.      Where'd  she  come  from? 

Cyn.  Abner  found  her  when  she  was  a  baby.  It  was  after 
a  big  storm  and  there'd  been  a  lot  o'  shipwrecks  and  she  was 
lashed  to  a  spar. 

Ber.     Where  was  it?  ' 

Cyn.  Near  some  foreign  port.  I  forget  where.  At  first  he 
thought  she  was  probably  a  foreign  baby,  but  as  she  grew  older 
he  declared  her  folks  must  have  been  good  Yankees.  At  any 
rate  he  has  made  a  good  one  of  her.  {Suddenly  noticing  him.) 
Why,  Cap'n  Berry,  what's  the  matter? 

Ber.  {pulling  himself  together).  Nothin',  Miss  Cynthy, 
nothing  but  a  memory.  I'll  say  good-night  again,  but  not 
good-bye.     Somehow,  something  tells  me  that  you  ain't  goin' 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  I5 

ter  leave  us  after  all.     (^Exil,  c.     Outside.')    Port  your  helium, 
Nathan.     All  aboard  ! 

[^Exit  Cyn.,  k.,  7vUh  some  of  the  dishes. 

{There  is  a  knock  at  the  door.  The  knock  is  repeated. 
Abni£R  Freeman  enters,  c.  He  is  about  fifty,  tall  and 
straight,  iron  gray  hair  and  beard ;  is  rather  ?iervous  and 
inclined  to  be  irritable. ) 

Abner  {lis  he  enters).     Cynthy  !  Cynthy ! 
Etiter  Cyn.,  r.,  hurriedly. 

Cyn.     Land,  it's  you,  Cap'n  Abner? 

Abner.     Yes.     Is  Cranberry  here? 

Cyn.  No,  he  has  been  here  but  he  is  gone.  Hasn't  been 
gone  but  a  few  minutes  though. 

Abner.  Couldn't  catch  him  such  a  night  as  this  if  he 
hadn't  been  gone  but  a  minute. 

Cyn.     Dreadful,  ain't  it? 

Abner.  Couldn't  be  much  worse.  I  hear  you  are  leaving 
in  the  morning,  Cynthy.  Doesn't  seem  as  if  there  was  any 
need  of  that. 

Cyn.  Doesn't  seem  so,  does  it?  I  have  about  decided 
that  it  isn't  right. 

Abner  {sharply).  Isn't  right?  What  do  you  mean  by 
that? 

Cyn.  Why,  this  has  always  been  my  home  and  I  think 
father  would  want  me  to  stay  in  it. 

Abner.  Your  father?  What  are  you  bringing  him  up  for? 
He's  dead.     You  don't  know  what  he  would  want. 

Cyn.  {surprised).  Goodness,  Cap'n  Abner,  you  are  touchy 
to-night. 

Abner.  Foolishness  always  makes  me  touchy.  I  suppose 
some  simpleton  has  hinted  to  you  that  your  father  was  cheated 
or  something  and  if  you  had  what  was  rightfully  yours  you 
wouldn't  have  to  leave. 

Cyn.  {astonished).  Why,  Cap'n  Abner,  have  you  gone 
crazy?     No  one  ever  dreamed  of  such  a  thing. 

Abner.  'Twould  be  just  like  tliem  !  {Abruptly  changes 
the  subject.)     Have  you  heard  that  Ariel  is  at  home? 

Cyn.  {guardedly).     Yes,  I  heard. 

Abner.     Nat  Williams  has  come  home  to-night,  too.    . 


l6  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Cyn.  (shortly).  Has  he?  Why  do  you  name  them  two 
almost  in  the  same  breath  ? 

Abner.     Good  couple  to  name  together. 

Cyn.     To  your  way  of  thinking,  perhaps. 

Abner  (tvalking  toward  door).  It's  a  mighty  good  way. 
{Turns  uneasily  and  cojnes  back.')  See  here,  Cynthy,  if  you 
want  me  to,  I'll  lend  you  some  money  to  keep  you  going  until 
you  can  get  some  more  work  of  some  kind. 

Cyn.     Why,  Cap'n  Abner,  that's  more'n  kind  of  you. 

Abneu.  I'd  be  glad  to  do  it.  1  was  always  a  good  friend 
of  your  father's.     You  know  that,  don't  you? 

Cyn.     Yes,  indeed.     Father  thought  everything  of  you. 

Abnek.     Well,  how  much  do  you  want? 

Cyn.  Not  anything.  I  appreciate  your  kindness  but  I 
couldn't  do  that. 

Abner.     Better  do  it.     I'm  perfectly  willing. 

Cyn.     No.     No,  thank  you. 

Abner  {walking  to  door).  Well,  just  as  you  like,  but  don't 
say  L  didn't  offer  to  help  you.     Good-night. 

{Exit,  c.  Cyn.  stands  looking  after  Jiim  puzzled  for  a  second ; 
then  she  walks  to  fireplace,  tur?is  and  looks  about  the  room 
slowly,  repeats  softly.) 

Cyn.  "  This  is  my  home  in  foul  weather  as  well  as  fair. 
The  fog  is  lifting  and  the  Keeper  of  the  Beacon  is  sending  me 
brighter  rays  to  steer  my  course." 

{Suddenly  and  determinedly  takes  the  pictures  and  vases 
from  box  and  places  them  back  on  the  mantel.) 

Obadiah  Daniels  {knocking  on  the  door).  I  say,  Cynthy  ! 
This  is  Obed  !  Kin  I  come  in  a  minit?  [Enters  c.  He  is 
small  and  wiry,  ivhite  hair  and  whiskers.)  Land,  Cynth, 
Vx^  nearly  drowned  !  Sech  a  night  an'  the  queerest  thing's 
happened.  Fer  the  love  of  Admiral  Farragut  will  you  lend  me 
a  lantern  ? 

Cyn.  {laughing).  I'll  lend  you  one  for  love  of  yourself, 
Obed.     We  don't  need  to  go  way  back  to  Admiral  Farragut. 

Obad.  I  wish  you  meant  that,  Cynth.  'Tain't  no  way  to 
joke  with  me  'bout  love.  I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  to. 
You  know  I've  been  dying  of  love  for  you  ever  since  we  learned 
our  a-b-abs  together. 

Cyn.     'Tain't  love  that  ails  you,  Obed,  it's   indigestion. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  I  7 

You  fell  ill  love  with  my  lunch  pail  years  ago  and  ihought  it 
was  me.  You  never  have  got  over  your  love  for  uiy — lunch 
pail  ! 

Obad.  By  tunket,  tliat  ain't  fair,  Cynth.  I  come  over  here 
to-night  to  tell  yer  there  ain't  no  need  of  your  leavin'  Bay 
Point.  If — if — you'd  jest  take  a  pardner  into  your  business — 
you — you  know  I'm  ready — more'n  ready — hev  been  fer  jeais. 

Cyn.  Don't,  Obed  !  Please  !  You  are  kind.  1  know 
how  kind,  and  you  deserve  a  good  deal  better  partner  than  1 
would  ever  make. 

Obad.     I'd  be  satisfied.      I  shouldn't  fret  'bout  that  a  mile. 

Cyn.     I  thought  you  came  for  a  lantern,  Obed. 

Obad.  No,  I  wuz  comin'  anyway,  but  1  decitled  I  needed 
a  lantern.  Fog's  so  thick  you  can't  cut  it  with  an  axe  and 
somebody's  stolen  my  pipe. 

Cyn.  (^astonished).      What? 

Obad.     Ever  hear  tell  o'  sech  a  thing? 

Cyn.  {staring  at  Jiiin).     Never! 

Obad.     Land  sakes,  Cynth,  be  you  struck  ? 

Cyn.  I  don't  know  but  1  am,  or  else  everybody  else  is. 
How  did  it  happen  ? 

Obad.  Why,  I  wuz  walkin'  along  an'  some  one  runs  up 
behind  me,  puts  his  hand  in  my  pocket  and  then  kites  off  fast 
as  he  could  go.  At  first  I  was  so  s' prised  I  didn't  know  what 
had  happened,  an'  then  after  a  second  I  puts  my  hand  in  my 
pocket  an'  my  pipe  wuz  gone.  I  suppose  he  thought  he'd  got 
my  pocketbook. 

Cyn.  I  ain't  so  sure  o'  that.  You're  the  third  I've  heard 
about  that's  had  their  pipes  took  this  evening. 

Obad.  {at  the  top  of  his  voice).  What?  Well,  fer  the  love 
o'  Admiral  Nelson  who's  the  others  ? 

Cyn.     Lemuel  Sawyer  and  Cap'n  Cranberry. 

Obad.  Wal,  sufferin'  cats  !  I'm  goin'  right  over  ter 
Lem's  !  Must  be  a  lunatic  loose  in  Bay  Point,  an'  gosh  all 
fog  horns,  he'll  murder  some  one  in  this  fog  'fore  he  gets 
through  ! 

Cyn.     Wait  a  second  !     I'll  get  you  a  lantern  ! 

{Exit,  R.      Obad.  7valks  about  very  much  upset.      Cyn.  re- 
enters with  lantern.) 

Obad.  {grabbing  it  and  starting  for  the  door).  Much 
obleeged  I 


10  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Cyn.  Obed,  you  sent  word  you  had  somebody  to  take  this 
liouse  for  me. 

Obad.     Yes,  I  hev,  Cynth,  some  folks  up  to  Barnstable. 

Cyn.  {slowly).  Well,  tell  them  please  the  place  ain't  for 
rent  any  longer. 

Obad.  Hey  ?  How's  that  ?  You  mean  somebody  else  has 
took  it  ? 

Cyn.     No.     I'm  going  to  stay  myself. 

Obad.  You?  Why,  I  thought  you  couldn't.  What's  hap- 
pened ?     Air  you  goin'  ter  hev  some  more  work  to  do  ? 

Cyn.  {hesitating  a  second).  Ye-es,  I'm  going  to  have  some 
more  work  to  do. 

Obad.  {curiously).     What  are  you  goin'  ter  do,  Cynth? 

Cyn.     1 — I  can't  tell  you  to-night. 

Obad.     Secret,  eh? 

Cyn.     Yes,  a  secret  jest  now.     I'll  tell  you  later. 

Obad.  Wal,  I  kin  wait,  I  reckon.  I'm  mighty  glad  you're 
goin'  ter  stay.     Good-night,  Cynth.  \^Exit,  c. 

Cyn.  Good-night,  Obed.  {Locks  the  door;  goes  to  fire- 
place;  picks  up  box  ;  carries  it  out  R.  ;  reenters  ;  goes  to  man- 
tel;  winds  a  clock  ;  goes  to  center  table  ;  picks  up  lamp  ;  starts 
toivard  stairs  ;  stops  ;  half  turns  back  ;  repeats  softly.)  "  The 
fog  is  lifting  and  the  Keeper  of  the  Beacon  is  sending  me 
brighter  rays  to  steer  my  course."  {Suddenly  speaks  impa- 
tiently.) Cynthia  Tinker,  you  sartain  are  the  biggest  fool  that 
walks  !      {Starts  toward  the  stairs.) 

Lee  Gordon  {knocking  at  door).  Oh,  I  say  !  The  house  ! 
(Cyn.  turfis  back  and  listens,  startled.)  Is  anybody  home? 
{Knocks  again. )     May  I  come  in  ? 

Cyn,   {uncertainly).     Who — is  it  ? 

Lee.  You  won't  know  if  I  tell  you.  I'm  a  stranger  around 
here.     I'm  lost  and  I  want  some  one  to  tell  me  where  I  am  at. 

Cyn.  {putting  lamp  on  table,  then  slojvly  unlocking  and 
opening  door).  You  sound  all  right.  I'll  risk  it  even  if  you 
are  a  stranger  in  Bay  Point.     Come  in  ! 

Enter  Lee.     He  is  about  twenty-one,  very  slight  and  boyish  in 
appearance  and  tnanner.     Decidedly  likeable. 

Lee  {with  a  gasp).  Thanks!  {Slams  the  door.)  My  name 
is  Gordon.  Lee  Gordon.  {Leans  back  against  the  door.)  I 
never  was  so  nearly  all  in  ! 

Cyn.     I  don't  wonder.     I  don't  know  when  we  ever  had 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  I9 

sech  a  night.  Go  over  by  the  fire  and  get  dry.  And  hev  some- 
thing to  eat. 

Lee  (goifjg  toward  table).     Great  !     I  could  eat  a  whale  ! 

Cyn.   [taking  teapot  froni  table).     I'll  get  you  some  hot  tea  ! 

\_Exit,  R. 

Lee  [hurrying  to  door,  opening  it  and  speaking  cautiously). 
Pete  !  Are  you  there?  Come  up  into  the  shelter  of  the  door 
and  I'll  let  you  in  as  soon  as  1  can.  [Shuts  door ;  hangs  coat 
on  chair  by  fire.  Cyn.  reenters  zaith  tea  ;  pours  him  a  cup. 
He  sits  down  by  table.)  Say,  but  you  are  kind  !  I've  heard 
about  the  Cape  Cod  folks  before,  and  now  1  can  well  believe 
what  I  iiave  heard.  It's  great  of  you  to  do  this.  How  do  you 
know  but  what  I'll  murder  you  and  get  away  with  the  silver? 

Cyn.  I'll  risk  it.  If  you  want  to  murder  me  for  a  butter 
knife  and  seven  teaspoons,  go  ahead.  That's  all  I  got  that's 
solid. 

Lee.  Thanks  for  the  tip.  I  guess  it  isn't  worth  while.  In 
return  for  your  hospitality  I  will  tell  you  the  history  of  my 
bright  young  life.  I'm  an  artist  and  I  have  come  down  the 
cape  looking  for  a  place  to  stay  a  while  and  do  some  sketching. 
I  have  made  the  trip  in  an  auto,  and  I  should  have  had  sense 
enough  to  have  stayed  in  Orleans  over  night.  I  didn't  realize 
how  bad  the  storm  was  going  to  be. 

Cyn.     Where's  your  car  ? 

Lee.  Anchored  somewhere  above  here.  I  simply  couldn't 
make  it  budge  another  inch  so  I  had  to  come  on  afoot.  [Rises.) 
I'll  have  to  find  lodgings.      Gee!      [Looks  about.)     I  hate  to 

go  on.     Say,  you  couldn't  consider [Hesitates  and  looks 

at  her  doubtfully.)  I  don't  suppose  you  would  think  of  such  a 
thing  as — as 

Cyn.     As  taking  you  in  ? 

Lee  [eagerly).  That's  what  I  meant.  Of  course  it's  aw- 
fully nervy  of  me  but  I  do  like  this  little  house — and — and  I 
like  you,  too.  You  have  been  so  mighty  kind.  It  seems 
almost  as  if  I  was  sent  right  here. 

Cyn.  [looking  at  him  7vith  a  staring  look).  It  does  seem 
that  way,  that's  a  fact.     You  can  stay. 

Lee.  Honest?  You  mean  just  over  night,  or  as  long  as  I 
please  ? 

Cyn.     As  long  as  you  please. 

Lee  [joyfully).     Say,  but  that's  great  !    Gee  !     What  luck  ! 

Cyn.  [rising  suddenly).  Ain't  it?  I'll  go  right  up  and  see 
about  your  room. 


20  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

(^Exit,  R.      Re'eiiiers  with  a  lamp  and  exits  by  stairs.^ 

Lee  {looking  after  her,  goes  to  door,  c,  and  opens  it). 
Pete  !     Quick  !     Come  in  ! 

Enter  Peter  Pomeroy,  c.  He  is  about  'Lee's  age;  inclined 
to  be  stout  and  nsiially  very  good-natured,  but  noiv  he  is 
decidedly  out  of  patience. 

Peter.     Say,  of  all  the 

Lee.  Hush  !  I'm  going  to  stay  here  !  Did  you  ever  hear 
such  kick  ? 

Peter.  Never  !  Where  am  I  going  to  sleep  ?  In  the  shade 
of  the  pump  in  the  back  yard  ? 

I^ee  {glancing  uneasily  toward  stairs').  No,  I'll  try  to  get 
you  up-stairs  for  to-night.  The  landlady  seems  to  be  alone 
here  and  she  will  never  know  the  difference. 

Peter  [going  to  table).  And  you  had  some  eats  !  Do  you 
know  what  h-o-g  spells? 

Lee.  Hush!  Will  you?  Here!  {Opens  door,  l.,  cau- 
tiously and  looks  out.)  Get  in  here  out  of  sight !  (Peter 
grabs  some  food  from  table.)  Now,  don't  move  until  I  say 
the  word.      {Pushes  hitn  toward  door.) 

Peter  {as  he  exits  L.).  Sure  !  Fido  doesn't  come  till  he's 
called. 

Enter  Cyn.,  by  stairs. 

Cyn.  It's  all  right,  Mr.  Gordon.  I'll  get  you  some  towels 
and  then  you  can  go  right  up. 

{She  exits  r.     Lee  rushes  to  door,  L.,  and  pulls  Peter  into 
room.) 

Lee.     Pete !     Quick  ! 

Peter.  For  heaven's  sake !  I  had  just  got  settled  to  eat 
lunch  ! 

Lee.  Up  the  stairs,  quick  !  {Pushes  him  toivard  stairs.) 
I'll  be  right  up  ! 

Peter  {starting  to  go  up-stairs,  turns  back).  Say,  I  forgot 
to  tell  you  I  got  three.      {Takes  three  pipes  from  his  pocket.) 

Lee  {impatiently).  Three  what?  Oh,  pipes  !  Three  pipes 
already  !  Good  work,  old  fellow  !  This  is  going  to  be  some 
adventure. 

Peter.  Huh  ?  I  should  worry  about  the  adventure.  I 
want  my  stomach  filled  up  and  a  night's  sleep  ! 

\^Exit  by  stairs,  eating  a  piece  of  bread. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  21 

Enter  Cyn.,  r.,  ami  hands  Lee  a  lamp  and  some  towels. 

Cyn.     Now,  you  can  go  right  up;  first  door  on  the  right. 

Lee.  If  you  knew  how  much  1  appreciate  your  kindness. 
Why,  it's  too  good  to  be  true.  {Starts  toward  stairs.)  I 
think  I  must  be  dreaming. 

Cyn.     Not  yet. 

Lee  {looking  back  and  laughing').     But  soon  !     Good-night. 

Cyn.  Good-night.  (l^'E^  exits  by  stairs.  She  stands  look- 
ing after  him.)  Well,  Cynthia  Tinker,  maybe  you  ain't  such 
a  fool  after  all ! 


CURTAIN 


ACT  n 
SCENE. — Same  as  in  Act  I.      The  next  morning. 

{The  table  is  set  for  breakfast.  Cyn.  and  Lee  are  seated 
at  the  table.  The  center  door  is  open.  It  is  a  bright 
sunlight  morning.^ 

Cyn.     More  coffee,  Mr.  Gordon  ? 

Lee  (^passing  her  his  cup).  Don't  care  if  I  do,  Miss 
Tinker.     Do  you  know,  1  am  positive  that  I  am  dreaming  ! 

Cyn.  I  ain't  sure  but  I  am  myself.  This  has  all  been 
rather  sudden. 

Lee.  That  doesn't  express  it,  Miss  Tinker.  When  I  think 
of  all  the  things  that  have  happened  since  I  left  Orleans  yester- 
day noon,  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  struck  by  a  landside,  and 
landed  right  side  up  in  Paradise. 

Cyn.     Land,  Mr.  Gordon,  that  ain't  no  way  to  talk. 

Lee.  Isn't  it?  Well,  if  these  muffins  aren't  heavenly,  I 
never  struck  anything  that  was.  The  only  thing  that  worries 
me  is  a  fear  that  you  will  regret  your  kindness  in  taking  in  a 
derelict,  and  want  to  withdraw  from  your  part  of  the  bargain. 
Do  you?  I  hate  like  time  to  give  you  tiie  opportunity,  but  I 
know  I  took  advantage  of  the  storm  to  get  a  shelter  last  night. 
Do  you  want  me  to  release  you  ? 

On.     I  ain't  said  anything  about  it,  have  I? 

Lee.  No,  but  you  certainly  are  taking  a  chance.  You 
haven't  even  asked  me  for  references. 

Cyn.  No,  I'm  taking  you  on  faith,  and  if  I'm  satisfied  to 
do  it  I  shouldn't  tliink  you  need  to  worry. 

Lee  {reaching  across  the  table  and  shaking  hands  with  her'). 
Miss  'I'inker,  you're  a  brick  !  I  feel  jnst  as  if  1  had  come  to 
visit  my  aunt,  or  something.  I  hope  you  will  never  regret 
your  kindness.  {As  CvN.  passes  him  the  plate  of  muffins.') 
No,  don't.  Have  mercy.  If  I  eat  another  mouthful  1  shall 
have  to  be  helped  from  the  table.  {Rises.)  That's  the  best 
breakfast  I  ever  ate,  and  believe  me,  the  landlady  is  way  ahead 
of  the  breakfast. 

22 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  23 

Cyn.  Land  sakes,  that's  no  way  to  talk  to  a  woman  my  age. 
Wliat  do  you  think  of  the  view  from  here? 

Lee  {goifi^  to  door).  Perfectly  corking.  It  cleared  off 
great,  didn't  it? 

Cyn.     Think  this  will  be  a  good  place  for  your  work? 

Lee.  Yes,  if  you  happen  to  have  a  window  on  the  back 
looking  out  onto  a  nice  quiet  little  h(jn- house. 

CvN.  {aslonished).  What  on  earth  do  you  mean?  You 
lion't  want  to  paint  a  hen-bouse,  do  you? 

Lee.      Paint  a {Suddenly  realizes  what  she  means.) 

Oh,  no,  no,  of  course  not  !  1  get  you  now  1  You — you  don't 
understand  me,  of  course.  Well,  i  have  to  work  where  there's 
nothing  to  look  at. 

CvN.     Land  o'  goshen,  what  do  you  paint? 

Lee  (airily).  Oh,  anything,  any  little  thing  I  take  a  fancy 
to.  I  have  a  good  long  look  at  it,  and  then  I  paint  it  from 
memory.  If  I  should  look  at  the  object  I  was  painting  I 
shouldn't  paint,  I  should  just  sit  and  look. 

Cyn.      VVell,  I  never  heard  the  beat ! 

Lee.  Odd,  isn't  it?  1  suppose  you  have  heard  of  the  im- 
pressionist art.  Well,  I  belong  to  a  new  line.  It's  called  the 
memorist  art. 

Cyn.  You  don't  say?  Well,  folks  are  never  satisfied. 
They're  always  getting  up  something  new.  Land,  if  you're  so 
newfangled  as  all  that  (^glancing  at  table),  I  don't  know  as  I'll 
be  able  to  suit  you. 

Lee  {starting  toward  stairs').  I  should  worry !  I  may 
have  an  up-to-date  line  of  art,  but  I've  got  an  old-fashioned 
stomach.  \_Exit  by  stairs. 

Cyn.  {looking  after  him  and  smiling).     Land  sakes  I 

{SJie  takes  some  dishes  from  table  arid  exits,  R.) 

Enter  Sam.,  c,  in  his  school  suit,  cap  and  sweater. 

Sam.  Miss  Cynthy  !  Miss  Cynthy  !  {Stops  and  listens, 
then  goes  to  table.)     Gee  !     Muffins  ! 

(^Puts  one  in  his  pocket,  and  starts  to  eat  another.  He  goes 
to  door,  listens;  to  stairs,  listens  ;  takes  two  pipes  from 
his  pocket,  looks  about  uncertainly,  puts  one  in  the  pocket 
of  Lee's  raincoat  which  still  hangs  over  chair  by  fire.  He 
still  looks  about  uncertainly ;  goes  to  table ;  opens  the 
sugar-bowl,  puts  other  pipe  in,  and  puts  cover  on.     He 


24 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 


then  runs  out,  c.  Slight  pause.  Lee  comes  half-way 
doivn- stairs.  Cyn.  enters  K.  with  a  pan  but  without  no- 
ticing.    Cyn.  exits,  c.) 

Lee  (looking  up  the  stairs).  Come  on  !  Hurry  up  !  She 
has  gone  out  but  she  is  apt  to  come  back  ! 

Entef-  Peter  by  stairs. 

Peter.  Say,  how  long  do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  stand 
this  "come  on,  hurry  up"  business?  You  seem  to  tliink  I'm 
a  regular  little  baseball  ready  for  you  to  bat  around  whenever 
you  happen  to  be  in  a  playful  mood. 

Lee.  There,  don't  be  peeved.  Didn't  I  get  you  a  shelter 
from  the  storm?  Now,  get  out,  quick,  and  come  back  later, 
and  ask  Miss  Tinker  to  board  you.  It's  best  we  should  be  in 
the  same  house  but  whatever  you  do,  don't  let  on  that  you 
know  me. 

Peter.  Don't  fret !  I  wish  I  didn't.  I'm  not  at  all  proud 
of  the  acquaintance.  (Goes  to  table.)  The  way  you  always 
manage  to  get  next  to  the  eats  is  a  caution. 

(^Eats  a  muffin  and  pours  some  coffee.) 

Lee.  We  must  get  to  work  just  as  soon  as  possible.  I've 
got  to  throw  a  bluff  about  the  ariist  business.  Say,  what  are 
you  going  to  pretend  you  are  doing  in  Bay  Point  ? 

Peter.     Don't  let  that  worry  you  ! 

Lee,  Well,  you  don't  want  to  choose  the  same  thing  I 
have. 

Peter.  Say,  you  make  me  tired  !  You  haven't  got  the 
only  crop  of  brains  on  earth.  I  guess  1  can  think  up  something 
for  myself,  and  you  just  bet  it  won't  be  any  such  silly  line  of 
labor  as  you  are  engaged  in. 

(Takes  all  the  muffins  from  the  plate  and  exits,  c.  Lee 
stands  looking  after  him  a  second  and  then  slotvly  exits  by 
stairs.     Slight  pause. ) 

Enter  Hep.,  c. 

Hep.  Cynthy  !  Cynthy  !  (Looks  about,  goes  to  door,  r.) 
Where  are  you?  (Cyn.  enters  c. ,  with  n pan  of  potatoes.) 
Oh,  there  you  are  !  I  couldn't  hardly  wait  to  swallow  my 
breakfast.  Obed  Daniels  came  over  last  night  an'  he  said  you'd 
got  some  more  work  an'  weren't  goin'  ter  leave  after  all.     I 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  25 

wouldn't  'a'  been  ten  seconds  gettin'  here  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
the  niglit.     Did  yer  ever  see  secli  a  storm  as  we  had  last  night? 
1  wiiz  scared  to  come  over  agin.     How'd  you  happen  ter  git 
work  after  I  left,  Cynthy?     Weren't  it  dreadful  sudden? 
CvN.     Yes,  it  was  rather  sudden. 

(^Si/s  dotun  and  pares  some  potatoes.') 

Hi£P.  And  my  land,  how  did  you  happen  ter  get  work  on 
secli  a  night  ? 

CvM.     The  storm  sent  the  work  to  me. 

Hep.  (tistounded).  The  storm  sent  it?  Cynthia  Tinker, 
what  air  you  goin'  ter  do? 

CvN.  Well,  1  suppose  you  might  as  well  know  one  time's 
another.      I've  taken  a  boarder. 

Hep.  {with  a  little  screani).  A  boarder  !  Cynthy  Tinker, 
who?     Fer  the  land's  sake,  tell  me  before  I  die  ! 

Cyn.      Hush  ! 

Enter  Lee  by  stairs. 

Lee.     Pardon  me,  Miss  Tinker. 

CvN.  That's  all  right.  Mr.  Gordon,  this  is  one  of  my 
neighbors,  Mrs.  Sawyer. 

Lee.     Delighted,  I'm  sure. 

Hep.  {all eyes').   Land  sakes,  I'm  pleased  to  be  acquaintanced. 

Lee  {taking  his  coat  from  chair).  I  think  I'll  go  up  shore 
and  see  what  has  become  of  my  car. 

Hep.     I  hope  you  will  find  it  there  all  right. 

Lee.  Oh,  it's  there  !  I'm  not  worried  about  that.  What 
troubles  me  is  how  I'm  going  to  get  it  here.  \_Exit,  c. 

Hep.  {breathlessly).  Cynth — is  that — you  ain't  never — do 
tell — my  land  ! 

CvN.     Well,  Hepsy,  are  you  overcome? 

Hep.     I — I  am  !     Cynthy,  is  that  young  flip  your  boarder? 

Cyn.     Yes. 

Hep.     Where — where  did  he  come  from  ? 

Cyn.     Out  of  the  storm  last  night. 

Hep.     You  ain't  telling  me  that  you've  took  in  a  stranger? 

Cyn.  No,  I'm  not  telling  anything.  You  are  doing  the 
telling,  but  it's  what  I  did. 

Hep.      What  do  you  know  about  him? 

Cyn.  He  paid  me  a  month  in  advance.  I  don't  need  to 
know  any  more. 


26  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Hep.  Well,  I'm  beat !  I  never  heard  the  match  !  Where 
did  he  come  from,  and  what  did  he  come  for? 

Cyn.  You  will  have  to  ask  him  a  few  things  yourself.  I 
haven't  known  him  very  long. 

Hep.  Well,  if  he'd  stayed  in  my  house  over  night  I'll  bet 
I'd  have  known. 

Cyn.   {impatiently).     Do  you  think  we  sat  up  all  night  ? 

Hep.  And  do  you  know,  1  wuz  so  upset  when  Obed  told 
me  about  you  gettin'  some  work,  an'  he  didn't  know  what,  said 
it  wuz  a  secret.  My  land,  I  thought  I  should  go  out  o'  my 
head,  1  wuz  so  upset.  I  forgot  to  ask  him  about  that  family 
who  wuz  coming  without  any  furniture.  It  went  clean  out  o' 
my  ndnd  until  he'd  gone  out  an'  then  it  come  over  me  all  to 
once.  1  made  one  leap  for  the  door  and  opened  my  nioulh 
good  and  wide  to  yell  Obed  !  An'  jest  then  a  gusl  o'  wind 
and  rain  come  round  the  corner  an'  knocked  my  breath  clean 
down  my  throat.  I  thought  1  wuz  a  goner  fer  a  second,  but 
the  thought  o'  them  people  without  any  furniture  brought  me 
to,  but  by  that  time  Obed  hed  gone  an'  1  don't  know  yet  who 
they  be. 

Cyn.   {dryly).     That  certain  is  a  pity,  Hepsy. 

Lemuel  Sawyer  {outside).  Hepsy  !  Hepsy  !  Be  you  in 
there  ? 

Hep.     Yes,  Lem  !     What  is  it? 

Enter  Lem.     He  is  tall  and  angular  ;  about  forty  years  old, 
and  self-important. 

Lem.  Mornin',  Miss  Cynthy.  I  hear  you  ain't  leavin'  us 
after  all. 

Cyn.     No,  I've  decided  to  stay. 

Hep.  Lem  Sawyer,  what  do  you  suppose  Cynthy  has  up 
an'  done? 

Lem.  I  swan,  I  give  up.  You  wimmen  folks  is  likely  ter 
do  most  anything.      What  now? 

Hep.  She's  took  a  boarder.  A  teetotal  stranger  !  Took 
him  right  out  o'  the  fog  last  night. 

Lem.  Well,  that  ain't  the  only  queer  thing  that  wuz  done 
in  the  bay  last  night.      Where's  Samuel  ? 

Hep.  Samuel  ?  Mercy  sakes,  gone  to  school,  I  suppose. 
{Looks  at  clock.)  No,  'tain't  time  yet.  I  don't  know  where 
he  is. 

Lem.  Well,  I  got  to  get  holt  o'  him  before  he  gets  into 
school.     Come  an'  look  for  him  ! 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  T."] 

Hep.      AVhat  on  airlh  lias  lie  been  up  to  now? 

LiiM.  Nothing.  1  got  lo  find  out  some  more  'bout  that 
pipe  business.  1  guess  fer  once  there  wuz  more  truth  than 
poetry   in    what  he  told.     There  wuz   seven   pipes  stole  last 

nigiu. 

^^\  {together').     Seven? 

Lkm.      Yep!     An'  the  post  office  wuz  broke  into  1 

Hep.      What? 

Cv.NT.     Mercy  sakes  ! 

Lem.  I  guess  there  ain't  been  sech  doin's  in  this  town  fer 
quite  a  spell.  I  reckon  as  constable  o'  Bay  Point  I'm  goin'  ter 
be  pretty  busy.  By  the  way,  Cynlhy,  you  say  you've  took  a 
stranger  in  ?     Where  does  he  hail  from  ? 

Cyn.  Why — why,  he  didn't  say.  Land  sakes,  Lem,  he's 
nothing  but  a  boy.  You  wouldn't  go  to  suspecting  any  one 
jest  because  they  was  a  stranger  in  town. 

Lem.  I  dunno.  I'll  be  back  later.  I  got  to  keep  my  eye 
on  everybody,  strangers  especially. 

Hep.  That's  right,  Lem.  1  see  this  little  flip  that's  boardin' 
with  Cynthy  an'  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  him  at  all.  1  wouldn't 
trust  him  as  fur  as  1  could  heave  a  cat ! 

{Exit,  Q..,folloived  by  Lem.) 

Cyn.  (indignantly,  following  them  to  door).  Hepsy  Saw- 
yer !  {Stands  looking  after  them  a  second,  and  goes  sloivly 
back  to  table.  She  suddenly  discovers  the  empty  muffin  dish.) 
My  land  1     Two  dozen  muffins  ! 

(Beu.  sticks  his  head  in  the  door.) 

Ber.  (rt/  the  top  of  his  voice).     Fresh  mackerel  ! 

Cyn.  {turning  with  a  start).  Land  sakes,  Cap'n  !  Is  it 
you  ? 

Her.  {laughing  and  stepping  in).  I  reckon  it  is  !  You 
didn't  go  after  all? 

Cyn.  No,  I  didn't.  Cap'n  Berry,  it's  the  strangest  thing. 
After  you  left  last  night,  I — I  got  to  thinking  about  what  you 
said.  It  was  enough  to  set  anybody  thinking  and  the  more  I 
thought  about  it,  the  more  I  believed  you  were  right  and  finally 
I  said  jest  what  you  told  me  to,  and  1  put  back  all  the  things  I 
had  been  packing  and  made  up  my  mind  to  stay  right  here. 
Then  I  said  it  again,  and  I  vvas  jest  tliinking  that  I  was  making 
a  terrible  fool  of  myself,  when  there  comes  a  knock  at  the  door, 


28  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

and  a  young  fellow  comes  in  out  of  the  stoma  and  wants  to 
board  with  me. 

Ber.  {^smiling).      Yes? 

Cyn.  My  land  !  Is  that  all  you  are  going  to  say  ?  Aren't 
you  surprised  ? 

Ber.  No.  It  was  odd  the  way  it  happened,  but  something, 
you  know,  was  bound  to  happen. 

Cyn.      Well,  I'm  beat  !     I  ain't  got  over  it  yet. 

Ber.  {taking  her  hand).  I'm  glad,  Miss  'linker,  glad  as  I 
can  be,  an'  now  you  jest  keep  your  eye  on  the  Beacon  and  you 
will  make  port  all  right.     Like  your  boarder? 

Cyn.  Oh,  yes,  he's  a  nice  little  fellow  with  a  real  taking 
way,  if  I  can  only  keep  him  filled  up.  if  he  eals  everyd)ing 
the  way  he  eats  muffins  I  don't  know.  Ain't  you  over  early, 
Cap'n  ? 

Ber.  Yes,  rather.  The  constable  telephoned  fer  me  to 
come  over  soon's  I  could.  Seems  to  have  been  a  good  deal 
goin'  on  last  night.     Post-office  robbed  and  seven  pipes  took, 

Cyn.     You  didn't  find  yours  then? 

Ber.     No, 

Cyn.     Ain't  it  the  queerest  thing? 

Ber.  Seems  kind  of  that  way.  I'll  look  in  agin  before  I 
go  back  to  the  point.  I'd  kind  of  like  to  get  a  look  at  your 
boarder, 

Cyn.  Well,  I  guess  you  won't  be  the  only  Bay  Pointer 
taken  that  way.  I  expect  the  whole  town  before  the  day  is 
over. 

Beu.  {lat/ghing).  Shouldn't  wonder.  Well,  I've  got  a 
special  reason  for  wantin'  to  see  him,  (^Heartily.)  I'm  glad. 
Miss  Cynthy,  more'n  glad  !  \_Exi(,  c. 

(Cyn.  clears  the  remaining  things  from  the  table  and  exits 
R.,  leaving  sugar  bowl  and  pitcher  of  tvater  on  the  table. 
Peter  knocks  several  times  at  door,  and  finally  steps  in. 
Cyn.  enters,  r.,  and  looks  at  him  in  surprise.') 

Cyn.     Land  sakes  !     I  thought  I  heard  some  one  knocking. 

Peter  {with  a  lotv  boiv).  Yes,  madame,  1  knocked  but  re- 
ceiving no  response  to  my  vociferous  attack  upon  your  door,  I 
took  the  unprecedented  privilege  of  entering  your  charming 
domicile,  I  will  not  say  unheralded  but  unbidden. 

Cyn.  (staggering).  Well,  for  the  mercy,  wh-what — did  you 
want  to  see  me  ? 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  2() 

Peter.  If  you  rejoice  in  the  euplionious  name  of  Cynthia 
Tinker,  it  is  you  I  seek.     Are  you  Miss  Tinker? 

Cyn.      Good  land,  yes  !      What  on  airth  do  you  want? 
Peteu.     I  seek  a  place  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  the  inner 
man.     Also  a  place  to  rest  my  weary  brain. 

Cyn.     1  should   think  likely  your  brain  would  be  weary.     I 
don't  seem  to  understand  yet  what  it  is  you're  driving  at.     If 
you'd  jest  tell  me  kind  of  plain  like  what  you  want  of  me. 
Peter.      I  would  like  lo  board  with  you. 
Cyn.  {stii^^ered).     WMiat? 

Petek.  Alas  !  Is  that  not  plain  enough?  How  can  I  say 
it  in  a  more  simple  form  ?  I  would  like  to  sleep  in  one  of  your 
rooms,  eat  of  your  delicious  muffins. 

Cym.     Muffins?     What  do  you  know  about  my  muffins? 
Peter.     In  faith  not  much,  but  you  have  a  look  about  you 
which  tells  me  that  you  are  an  expert  at  muffins. 

Cyn.  {half  convinced).      Whatever  made  you  come  here? 

Peter.     I   met  a  lady  somewhat   loquacious,  but   seeming 

n'eriheless  to  know  whereof  she  spoke,  who  advised  me  lo  come. 

Cyn.     Is  that  so?     Must  have  been  Hepsy  Sawyer.     Hum  ! 

Mighty    free   about  advising   people  to  go   to  other   people's 

houses.      What  did  she  say  ? 

Peter  {doubtfully).     You  really  wish  me  to  tell  you  ? 
Cyn.  {grimly).     Yes,  every  word. 

Peter.     Let   me    think.     She    said  inasmuch  as   you   had  ' 
been   foolish  enough  to  take  in  one  poor  silly  imitation  of  a 
man,  you  might  be  crazy  enough  to  accommodate  as  big  a  fool 
as  I  appeared  to  be. 

Cyn.      Indeed?     To  pay  her  for  that  I  will  take  you.     If 
I'm  going  to  have  the  reputation  of  running  a  lunatic  asylum  I 
might  as  well  have  plenty  of  inmates.      Who  be  you  ? 
Peter.     Peter  Pretzel  Pomeroy.     {Boies  low.) 

Cyn.     For  the  land 

Peter.     From  Brookline,  Mass. 

Cyn.  What  are  you  going  to  do  here?  Write  poetry  stuff 
about  the  sand  dunes  and  the  ocean  ? 

Peter.  Alas,  no  !  I  am  no  poet.  I  am  an  agent  for  the 
Holton-Holland  Co.  I  am  demonstrating  a  useful  little  house- 
hold article,  called  the  Ladies'  Little  Charm.  No  housekeeper 
can  possibly  be  happy  without  one. 

{Takes  a  clothes  sprinkler  from  his  pocket  and  shows  if  to 
her.) 


30  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Cyn.  For  the  land — what  is  it  ?  Looks  like  the  top  of  a 
pepper-pot. 

Petek.      You  have  never  seen  one? 

Cyn.  (Jiesihidiig).      No-o,  I  guess  not.     What  is  it  for? 

Peteu.  Oh,  joy  !  Oil,  bliss  !  Oh,  rapture  !  They  haven't 
readied  Bay  Point  yet.  I'm  the  first  on  hand.  This,  dear 
madam,  is  a  clothes  sprinkler.  {lakes  a  bottle  from  his 
pocket.^  If  you  will  just  let  nie  fill  this  with  water,  1  will  show 
you  how  it  works.  {Takes  pitcher  from  table.')  Is  this  water 
or  champagne  ?  Water,  of  course  !  {Fills  the  bottle  ami  puts 
on  the  sprinkler-top.  He  then  places  a  handkerchief  on  table.) 
Spread  your  clothes  on  the  table  and  sprinkle  lightly,  wets  ihem 
all  over  the  same.  It  can  likewise  be  used  to  sprinkle  the  floor 
{illiislraling)  before  sweeping.      To  water  the  floweis  ! 

Cyn.  For  the  land  sakes,  stop  !  There  won't  be  a  dry  spot 
in  the  house  ! 

Peter.     Likewise  to  shampoo  the  hair. 

{Waves  the  bottle  over  his  own  head  and  then  over  hers.) 

Cyn.  {desperately).     If  you  will  stop  I  will  buy  one. 

Peter.  You,  madame  ?  Never  !  J  give  this  to  you  from 
the  depths  of  a  grateful  heart.  {Bows  and  places  it  on  the 
table.)  Just  show  it  to  your  friends.  {Abruptly  changing  the 
subject.)     What  room  do  I  occupy  ? 

Cyn.  Why,  come  right  up  and  see  !  {Goes  torvard  the 
stairs  followed  by  Peter.)  The  best  room  is  taken  but  I  guess 
I  can  satisfy  you  maybe. 

Peter.  Not  the  least  doubt  of  it,  madame.  To  be  fortu- 
nate enough  to  secure  a  room  in  your  house  is  like  finding  the 
dime  in  a  birthday  cake.  \They  exeunt  by  stairs. 

{Slight  pause.     Ariel  enters,  c,  in  a  tchite  linen  dress, 
with  a  cap  and  sweater.) 

Ariel.     Miss  Cynthy  !     Miss  Cynthy  ! 

Enter  Lee,  c. 

Lee  {stopping  and  regarding  her  in  astonishment).     Ariel ! 

Ariel  {doubtfully,  as  she  turns  to7vard him).  Why — why — 
it's  Lee,  isn't  it?  {As  he  fnoves  toward  her.)  Why,  I  can't 
believe  it  can  be  ! 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  3I 

Lee  {taking  her  hand).  And  I  can't  believe  it  is  you  ! 
Why,  Ariel,  how  do  you  happen  to  be  here? 

Ariel.  My  eyes  are  troubling  me  and  I  had  to  come 
home. 

Lee.     Home?     My  heaven,  Ariel,  is  Bay  Point  your  home? 

AuiEL.     Yes.     Didn't  you  remember  ? 

Lee.  No.  I  remembered  it  was  Cape  Cod  but  I  didn't 
remember  the  town,  and  to  think  that  1  have  come  to  your 
home  !     Ariel,  it  seems  years  since  1  have  seen  you. 

AuiEr,.  Wliy  did  you  leave  New  Haven  without  seeing  any 
of  your  friends  ? 

Lee.  1  know  what  you  must  think  of  me.  Things  looked 
too  black  against  me,  but,  Ariel,  1  am  not  as  black  as  1  was 
painted.  1  have  come  down  here  to  start  all  over  again.  I 
have  been  told  that  1  have  a  brilliant  future  ahead  of  me  along 
a  certain  line.  1  have  splendid  opportunity,  and  1  am  going 
to  make  good  or  die.  Do  you  understand  why  I'm  so  anxious 
to  make  good  ?  Did  you  understand  before — before  the  smash 
came,  how  much  I  cared  for  you  ?  And  I  dared  to  hope  that 
you  cared  a  little,  too.     Did  you,  Ariel  ? 

Ariel  {breathlessly).     Oh,  you  mustn't  talk  this  way  ! 

Lee.  Can't  you  give  me  just  a  word  of  hope  to  encourage 
me  to  work  ?  1  will  never  bother  you.  1  will  never  ask  any- 
thing of  you  until  I  prove  to  you  that  I  am  straight.  Ariel, 
didn't  you  care  just  a  little  ? 

Akiel  {softly).     Yes. 

Lee  {joyfully).     Ariel  ! 

Ariel.  Oh,  why  did  I  say  that?  I  have  no  right  to  offer 
you  any  encouragement. 

Lee  {stepping  toward  her).     Ariel 

Ariel.  Hush  !  I  hear  some  one  coming.  {Suddenly.) 
Why,  Lee,  I  was  so  surprised  to  see  you  that  1  never  thought. 
Have  you  taken  this  house  ?     Has  Miss  Cynthy  gone? 

Lee.     Gone  ?     Of  course  not  !     I  am  boarding  with  her. 

Ariel.  Boarding  with  Miss  Cynthy?  Why,  you  can't  be! 
She  was  going  away. 

Enter  CvN.  by  stairs. 

Lee.     Well,  here  she  is  to  answer  for  herself. 
CvN.     Oh,  it's  you,  Arey?     I  wondered  who  was  talking 
down  here.     Do  you  know  Mr.  Gordon  ? 

Ariel.     I  have  met  him  before.     He  went  to  Yale  and  my 


32  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

scliool  is  near  there,  you  know.  We  have  met  at — at  some 
social  affairs. 

Cyn.  {delighted').  Well,  now,  that's  real  pleasant,  ain't  it? 
I  have  taken  another  boarder,  Mr.  Gordon.  1  hope  you  don't 
mind. 

Lee.     Not  at  all.     The  more  the  merrier.     Who  is  it  ? 

CvN.  1  don't  believe  I  can  ever  remember  what  he  said. 
It's  Peter,  1  am  sure  of  that  much,  and  he  sells  clothes  sprin- 
klers for  a  living. 

Ariel  {amused).     What? 

Lee  {(is/ounded).     Good  lord  ! 

Cyn.     Real  kind  o'  comical,  ain't  it  ? 

Lee.     I  should  say  it  was  ! 

Ariel  {taking  tip  the  bottle  on  the  table').  Is  this  one  of 
them  ? 

Cyn.     Yes,  and  it  works  real  kind  of  cute,  loo. 

\j^^  {looking  at  it^.  Good-night!  Oh,  Miss  Tinker,  I  got 
my  car  up  here  and  I  was  going  to  ask  you  if  it  would  be  all 
right  to  run  it  into  this  little  house  out  back  here  ? 

Cyn.     Why,  yes,  if  it's  big  enough. 

Lee.  Just  about  right,  1  think.  Thank  you.  I  will  see 
you  laler.  Miss  Freeman. 

Ariel.  Good-morning,  Mr.  Gordon.  (Lee  exits,  c. 
Auiet.  goes  to  Cyn.  and  throws  her  arms  around  her.)  Oh, 
Miss  Cynthy,  you  aren't  going  after  all  !  Wasn't  it  dreadful 
sudden,  your  taking  Mr.  Gordon  ? 

Cyn.  Well,  it  was  rather  unexpected.  He  was  hunting 
around  in  the  fog  last  night  for  a  place  to  stay,  and  he  came 
here,  and  after  he  got  here  he  didn't  want  to  leave. 

Ariel.      Wasn't  that  wonderful  ? 

Cyn.  {jvith  a  curious  smile).     Yes,  I  think  it  was  kind  of. 

Ariel.  I'm  so  glad.  I  never  needed  you  so  much  in  my 
life  as  I  do  now. 

Cyn.     What's  the  matter? 

AuiEr,.  Nat  Williams  came  home  last  night.  It — it  seems 
that  before  he  sailed  this  last  time  father  about  the  same  as 
promised  him  that  I  would  marry  him  after  I  graduate. 

Cyn.     Arey,  what  are  you  talking  about? 

Ariel,     What  am  I  going  to  do? 

Cyn.     As  you  please,  of  course.     Your  father  is  crazy. 

Ariel.  It's  so  hard.  I  want  to  please  father  and  there 
isn't  a  thing  in  the  world  against  Nat.  He  is  a  good  man  and 
doing  well. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  33 

Cyn.     There's  lols  of  good  men  doing  well  in  this  world, 
but  that  don't  make  it  out  you  got  to  marry  them  all. 
Ariel.     I  just  can't  make  up  my  mind  to  marry  Nat. 
Cyn.     Of  course    you    can't.     {Decidedly. ^     You  are  too 
young  to  many  any  one. 

Ariel.      Why,  lols  of  girls  younger  than  I  am  marry. 

CvN.     Well,  because  some  folks  is  foolish  {Suddenly 

stops  and  looks  at  her.)     Laifd  o'  goshen,  Arey,  there  ain't 
some  one  you  want  to  marry,  is  there  ? 

Ariel  {faintly).     1  didn't  say  so. 

CvN.     Who  is  it? 

Ariel.  No  one  in  Bay  Point,  Miss  Cynthy.  And  it  can't 
ever  come  to  anything.  He  is  just  the  kind  that  father  wouldn't 
approve  of. 

Cyn.     I  never  knew  it  to  fail. 

Ariel.     And  I'm  so  unhappy.      {Begins  to  cry.) 

Cyn.   {dryly).     Of  course  !     Dyin'  of  a  broken  heart  ! 

P^wiEh  {reproachfully).      Why,  Miss  Cynlhy  ! 

Cyn.  {going  to  her  and  putting  her  arms  around  her). 
There,  child,  you  know  I'm  sorry  for  you.  Only  you're  so 
young,  it  seems  so  kind  of  foolish  for  you  to  be  talking  about 
marrying  any  one. 

Ariel.  I  haven't  got  any  mother — and — and — (Ber.  enters, 
C,  unnoticed)  dad's  going  against  me,  and — if — if — you  don't 
stand  by  me  I'll  die  ! 

Cyn.     There,  child {Suddenly  notices   Ber.,  who  is 

trying  to  make  a  quiet  exit.)     Oh,  it's  you,  Cap'n? 

Ariel  {springing  to  her  feet).     Oh  ! 

Cyn.     It's  Cap'n  Berry  1 

Ariel  {trying  to  choke  back  her  tears).     Good-morning. 

Cyn.     Go  in  my  room,  dearie.         [Exit  Ariel,  l.,  hastily. 

Ber.   {awkxvardly).     I'm  sorry  I  happened 

Cyn.  That's  all  right,  Cap'n.  I  guess  you  think  women 
folks  are  always  crying. 

Ber.  That's  their  privilege  and  safety  valve.  There's  times 
when  the  men  would  like  durned  well  to  cry,  but  they  swear 
instead.  Wha-what  did  she  mean  about  her — her  father's 
going  against  her? 

Cyn.  Oh,  she  didn't  just  realize  what  she  was  saying.  I 
don't  believe  Abner  would  ever  really  go  against  her.  He 
worships  the  ground  she  walks  on,  but  he  is  acting  queer  all 
of  a  sudden. 

Ber.     What's  the  trouble?     Of  course  'tain't  none  of  my 


34  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

business,  but  sometimes  an  outsider  can  help,  unexpected  like, 
you  know. 

Cyn.  I'm  afraid  no  outsider  can  help  in  this.  It  looks  like 
some  trouble  between  Arey  and  Abner.  He's  set  on  her  marry- 
ing Nat  Williams. 

Bek.  Cap'n  Williams  that  sails  for  Rowland  Gordon  o' 
Boston  ? 

Cyn.     Yes. 

Beu.     Well,  he's  said  to  be  a  likely  sort  o'  chap,  ain't  be? 

Cyn.  Oh,  yes,  but  you  don't  believe  in  a  girl's  being  forced 
to  marry  a  man  she  doesn't  care  for,  do  you,  even  if  he  is  a 
likely  sort  of  chap? 

Bek.     Is  Cap'n  Abner  forcing  her? 

Cyn.  I  don't  know  as  he  is  exactly,  but  he's  terrible  set  on 
it,  an'  I  don't  see  why.  He's  had  two  spells  before  this  of 
trying  to  induce  her  to  say  "  yes  "  to  Nat.  It's  terrible  queer. 
He  tries  to  make  her  feel  that  she  owes  everything,  even  her 
life,  to  him,  and  it's  her  duty  to  obey. 

Ber.  (^fr owning).  Oh,  he  does,  eh?  Then  she  knows  she 
ain't  really  Freeman's  daughter? 

Cyn.  Oh,  yes,  she  knows  it,  but  she  doesn't  realize  the  dif- 
ference.    She  wasn't  more'n  a  year  old  when  he  found  her. 

Ber.     Never  had  no  clues  as  to  whom  her  own  folks  was? 

Cyn,  No,  I  guess  not,  although  I  think  I've  heard  tell  he 
has  some  things  that  were  on  her,  a  locket  or  something,  I  don't 
remember  what.  He's  been  a  good  father  to  her  all  these 
years.  I  can't  imagine  what  ails  him  now.  Well,  there's  lots 
o'  queer  things  in  this  world,  and  lots  of  unhappiness.  {Sud- 
denly.') Well,  if  I'm  going  to  get  dinner  for — land,  Cap'n 
Berry,  1  forgot  to  tell  you.     I've  taken  another  boarder. 

Ber.  Well,  you  are  rushing  things,  ain't  you?  Say,  Miss 
Tinker,  do  you  know  anything  about  the  young  chap  you  took 
in  last  night? 

Cyn.     No,  not  a  thing  ! 

Ber.     Seems  a  good  sort  of  fellow  ? 

Cyn.  He  certain  does.  He's  got  a  real  taking  way  with 
him.     {^Alarmed.)     What's  the  matter,  Cap'n  Berry? 

Ber.  Well,  of  course  there  was  considerable  excitement  in 
town  last  night,  and  of  course  a  stranger  always  causes  a  lot  of 
talk,  and  his  coming  mysterious  like 

Cyn.  {interrnpling).  There  wasn't  nothing  mysterious 
about  it  fur's  I  can  see. 

Ber.     Well,    some   people   look   at   it   different,   especially 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  35 

Hepsy  Sawyer.  That  woman's  got  a  northeast  gale  blowing 
off  the  end  X){  her  tongue  fresh  every  hour.  Anyway  they've 
got  it  going  that  this  chap  you've  took  in  may  be  concerned, 
and  I  expect  you  will  have  the  whole  ciowd  down  here  in  a  few 
minutes. 

Cyn.  My  land,  Cap'n  Berry,  that  boy  never  had  nothin' 
ter  do  with  it  in  this  world.  He  is  as  innocent  as — as — as  a  lit- 
tle ba-a  lamb.  Cap'n  Berry,  you  don't  believe  that  1  did  wrong 
in  taking  hiin  in?     You  know  you — you 

Ber.  Yes,  I  know,  and  I  think  you  done  jest  right.  I  know 
you  wouldn't  have  taken  a  stranger  in  if  it  hadn't  been  for  what 
I  said,  and  don't  you  worry  a  mite.  Miss  Cynthy,  no  matter 
what  any  one  says,  I  will  stand  by  you.  Where  is  your  boarder  ? 
I'd  like  to  have  a  look  at  him. 

Cyn.  He's  out  in  the  back  yard  trying. to  get  his  car  into 
father's  old  carpenter  shed.      Come  out  and  see  him. 

[Exit,  \x.,  followed  by  Ber. 

Enter    Lee,    c.     He    ivears    his    raincoat.      Peter    comes 
down-stairs. 

Lee  {joyfully').     Well,  old  man,  you  got  in  ? 

Peter  {uiith  dignity).  Certainly.  1  should  worry  but 
what  I  could  get  into  any  place  where  they  would  take  you. 
Have  you  heard  the  excitement  in  town  this  morning  ? 

Lee.  No,  I  have  been  up  shore  after  the  car.  What's  going 
on  ? 

Peter.     Seven  pipes  were  stolen  last  night. 

Lee.     Seven?     Why,  you  said  three. 

Peter.     I  said  I  took  three. 

'Lit.E  {puzzled).      Well — but {Staggered.)     You  don't 

mean  to  say  some  one  else  took  the  other  four  ? 

Peter  {looking  surprised).  WMiy,  I  supposed  you  were  the 
some  one  else  ! 

Lice.  Well,  you  have  another  think.  I  know  absolutely 
notiiing  about  it.  I  left  that  part  of  tlie  job  to  you,  and  why — 
great  heavens,  Pete!  Seven  pipes?  Just  the  number  we 
planned  on  taking  ! 

Peter.  Exactly.  That's  why  I  thought  you  had  a  hand 
in  it. 

Lee.     But  what  do  you  make  of  it  ? 

Peter.  I  don't  make.  We  wanted  a  mystery.  We've  got 
it  !     The  sooner  we  get  to  work  the  better. 

Lee.     Thai's  right. 


36  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Peter.     I'll  go  out  and  see  if  I  can  hear  something  more. 
Lee.     Good   idea,    but   whatever   you   do,  don't  let  on  that 
you  know  me. 

Peter.     Don't  fret  about  that.     I  never  saw  you  before. 

(^Exif,  c.     Lee  looks  after  him  a  second  and  exifs  by  stairs.) 

Enter  Nat  Williams,  c.  He  is  tall,  dark  cotnplexioned,  about 
thirty- five,  and  rather  self -iiiipor taut.  He  has  the  ap- 
pearance of  altvays  getting  what  he  goes  after.  He  glances 
about.     Ariel  enters  L. 

Nat  {rushing  forward  and  taking  her  hand).  Ariel!  I 
have  been  chasing  all  over  Bay  Point  after  you.  Hepsy  said 
she  thought  you  came  down  here.  I  couldn't  wait  to  see  you 
again. 

Ariel  {with  an  effort).     How  do  you  do,  Nat? 

Nat.  I  couldn't  realize  my  good  luck  when  I  heard  you 
were  at  home,  although  of  course  I  am  sorry  about  your  eyes. 
I  wish    you   would   tell  me   that   you  are  glad  to  see  me. 

Ariel.     Why,  of  course  I  am  always  glad  to  see  old  friends. 

Nat.  That  is  too  impersonal.  I  want  you  to  say  you  are 
glad  to  see  me. 

Ariel.     You  are  somewhat  exacting,  aren't  you? 

Nat.  Ariel,  don't  talk  to  me  that  way.  1  can't  stand  it. 
You  know  how  much  I  care,  and  you  must  try  to  care,  too. 

Ariel.     Must? 

Nat.     You  understand  what  I  mean. 

Ariel  {wearily).     Haven't  we  been  all  over  this  before? 

Nat.  We  have  several  times,  and  we  are  going  over  it  again 
and  again.  I  have  thought  of  you  all  this  home  trip,  little 
dreaming  that  I  was  coming  straight  to  you.  I  thought  I  should 
have  to  wait  until  summer  before  I  saw  you  again.  Now  that 
I  haven't  got  to  wait  I  don't  intend  to  lose  one  minute. 

Auiel  {impatiently).      I  shouldn't  say  you  did. 

Nat.  There  is  no  one  in  my  way.  I'll  make  you  care 
for  me. 

AuiEL  {angrily).  Will  you,  indeed  ?  Do  you  expect  to  do 
it  by  yourself?     I  guess  you  will  have  to  call  for  help. 

Nat.      Your  father  will  give  me  all  the  help  I  need. 

Aripj..     This  is  something  he  cares  nothing  about. 

Nat  {grooving  angry).     You  know  better  than  that. 

Ariel.  Oh,  what's  the  use?  We  always  quarrel.  Why 
start  it  again  ? 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 


Enter  Abner,  c. 


37 


Nat.  Captain  Freeman,  would  you  mind  saying  to  your 
daughter  what  you  said  to  me  last  night? 

Ariel.  Oh,  never  mind  about  it.  Don't  trouble  yourself, 
father.  I  can  imagine  what  you  said,  and  I  can  be  just  ex- 
actly as  happy  if  1  dun't  hear  it. 

Abner.  Ariel,  I  don't  want  you  to  go  to  acting  this  way  with 
Nat.  You  just  make  him  mad,  and  1  don't  wonder.  Some- 
times you  are  enough  to  make  St.  Peter  swear.  Nat  wants  to 
marry  you,  not  now,  but  when  you  graduate.  I  don't  see  any 
earthly  reason  why  you  shouldn't  promise  to.  Nat's  a  fine  fel- 
low and  doing  well.      You  haven't  anything  against  him? 

Ariel.  Certainly  not,  but  I  don't  care  lo  promise  myself  to 
any  one.     Graduation  is  quite  a  long  ways  off  yet. 

Abner.  Ariel,  1  don't  very  often  ask  anything  of  you,  I 
don't  remember  that  1  have  ever  asked  any  very  special  thing. 
Don't  you  think  it's  your  duty  to  do  this  first  thing  that  I  ask? 

Ariel.  Oh,  dad,  how  can  you  make  such  a  request  in  sucii 
a  way?      {Bur  sis  into  tears  and  runs  out,  r.) 

Abner.  Well,  Nat,  this  looks  mighty  foolish  to  me.  If  a 
girl  won't,  she  won't. 

Nat.     Do  you  intend  to  let  her  do  as  she  pleases? 

Abner.  Let  her?  Good  lord,  do  you  expect  me  to  force 
her  into  a  marriage  with  you? 

Nat.     Don't  you  feel  that  you  owe  me  some  recompense? 

Abner.  Well,  great  heaven,  won't  anything  but  Ariel  sat- 
isfy you  ? 

Nat.     No. 

Abner  {angrily).     Well,  I  must  say  you 

Nat  {quietly).  Captain  Freeman,  what  were  you  doing  in 
the  post-office  last  night  ? 

.'\bner  {startino).      In  the  post-office? 

Nat  { pointeilly).     Yes,  long  after  it  closed? 

Abner  {grotving  angry).      What  do  you  mean? 

Nat.  Just  what  I  say.  I  know  you  were  there.  There  is 
no  use  in  denying  it. 

Abner  {beside  himself).  Why,  you — do  you  mean  to  in- 
sinuate  

Nat  {calmly).  Just  explain  your  presence  there.  {Slight 
pause.  Abner  remains  silent.)  You  didn't  find  what  you 
were  looking  for,  did  you?  I  was  before  you,  Captain  Free- 
man.    Before  I  sailed  this  last  time,  I  made  a  midnight  visit  to 


38  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

the  post-office  myself,  but  I  covered  iny  tracks.  I  think  some- 
thing must  have  scared  you  off  before  you  had  a  chance  to  pick 
things  up. 

Abneu.  You  dare  to  tell  me  that  you  entered  the  post- 
office? 

Nat.  Oh,  yes,  you  won't  say  anything  about  it.  If  you 
did  I  should  be  obliged  to  show  the  papers  I  went  after,  and 
you  wouldn't  have  any  one  see  those  papers  for  a  farm. 

Abner  {desperately').  I  don't  know  what  you  are  driv- 
ing at. 

Nat.  Oh,  yes,  you  do.  See  here,  Captain  Freeman,  all  in 
this  world  I  want  is  your  influence  with  Ariel.  This  is  a  mean 
way  to  get  it,  I'll  admit,  but  I  want  the  girl  and  I  don't  care 
how  I  get  her. 

Abner.  And  if  I  refuse  to  bother  Ariel  any  more  what  is  it 
you  are  threatening  ? 

Nat.  Why,  I  don't  know  as  I  have  exactly  threatened  any- 
thing. Threatened  isn't  a  nice  word.  Of  course  you  know 
that  you  owe  as  much  to  Miss  Tinker  as  you  did  to  my  father. 
I  don't  know  exactly  how  you  would  come  out  if  the  thing  was 
to  go  to  court,  but  as  long  as  Miss  Cynthy  is  in  need  of  money 
it  looks  to  me  like  a  question  of  honor  on  your  part.  I  under- 
stand she  is  about  to  leave  town  to  look  for  work. 

Abneu  {snapping  the  words  out).  She  isn't  going  !  {Be- 
side himself  again.)  If  you  think  you  can  frighten  me  you  are 
mistaken  !  I  absolutely  deny  that  I  was  inside  the  post-office 
last  night. 

Nat.  Oh,  well,  of  course  if  you  are  going  to  take  that 
stand  I  shall 

Abner  {warningly).     Hush  ! 

Etiter  Lem.  and  Obad.,  c. 

Lem.     Oh,  you  are  here,  Cap'n  Freeman? 

Obad.  {all  out  0/  breath).  We've  hunted  all  over  town  for 
yer.  Fer  the  love  of  John  Paul  Jones,  stay  put  fer  a  while  un- 
til we  see  if  we  can  get  at  any  facts  to  help  us. 

Lem.  WhBt's  become  o'  Cap'n  Cranberry,  an'  where's  Miss 
Cynthy  ? 

Enter  Cyn.  and'QEK.,  R.     Ariel  ente/s,  R. 

Ber.     We're  here,  Lem.     What's  the  matter? 

Enter  Hep.,  c,  dragging  after  her  Sam.,  who  is  not  ai  alt 
willing  to  be  dragged. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  39 

Hep.  Lem,  here's  Sammy  !  I've  chased  all  over  town  and 
I  declare  ter  goodness  I'm 

Lem.  Never  mind  where  you've  chased,  as  long  as  you  got 
him. 

Hep.  And  I  had  to  drag  him  every  step  of  the  way.  He 
wuz  bound  he  would  not  come. 

Sam.  (^fearfully).     1  ain't  got  nothin'  ter  tell,  dad  ! 

Lem.     You  will  tell  all  right  if  I  get  after  you. 

S.AM.  You  always  said  not  to  tell  things,  an'  I  ain't  got 
nothin'  to  tell. 

Hep.     Ain't  he  the  beatenest  young  one  ! 

Bek.  [picking  Sam.  up).  You  keep  him  frightened  to  death 
all  the  time.  He  will  tell  all  about  who  took  the  pipe  from 
him  when  you  get  ready  to  hear  it. 

Lem.     Miss  Cynthy,  you  hev  taken  a  boarder? 

CvN.     I  have  taken  two. 

Hep.  Two?  You  don't  ever  in  this  world  mean  that  you 
have  taken  in  that  crazy 

Lem.  Hepsy  !  Will  you  hush  up?  I  don't  mean  that  fel- 
low that's  just  come  to  town  this  morning  selling  clothes 
sprinklers.  I  mean  that  fellow  who  was  prowling  around  Bay 
Point  last  night  in  the  fog. 

CvN.  (indignantly).     Who  says  he  was  prowling? 

Lem.     I  say  so.     Prowling  around 

Bek.  Oh,  belay  there,  Lem !  There  weren't  nothin'  a 
stranger  could  do  last  night  but  prowl  around.  It  was  hard 
enough  for  us  folks  that  lives  here  all  the  time. 

Lem.  Well,  maybe  so,  Cap'n,  but  we  hev  got  to  inquire 
what  he  was  doing.  [Importantly.)  In  fact  we  got  to  inquire 
into  everybody's  business  that  was  out  last  night.  It  ain't  so 
much  those  durned  pipes,  though  it  certainly  beats  tunket  who 
took  them,  but  the  post-ofiice  was  broken  into,  you  must  re- 
■  member,  and  Obed's  safe  was  broke  open. 

Obad.  {excited).  Gosh  all  fog  horns,  yes !  And,  Abner, 
I  found  your  pipe  on  the  floor  right  by  the  safe. 

Abner  [staggered).      Wiiat?     I  don't  believe  it  ! 

Obad.  [handing  him  a  pipe).  Yes,  sir  !  Yours  all  right  ! 
I  know  your  pipe  as  well  as  I  do  my  own. 

Enter  Lee  by  stairs,  unnoticed. 

Abner  {l>reathing  hard).     Do  you — do  you   mean  to  say 

that  you  think  that  I 

{Glances  at  Nat  and  stops  abruptly.) 


40  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Le.m.  Why,  o'  course  not  !  The  idee,  Cap'n  Freeman  ! 
We  know  you  ain't  in  no  ways  concerned,  but  don't  you  see? 
It  goes  to  show  that  the  fellow  that  stole  the  pipes  broke  into 
the  post-office? 

Abner  {niith  a  sigh  of.  relief ).      Oh  ! 

Lem.  And  now  I  want  to  see  this  boarder  of  yours,  Miss 
Cynthy. 

Lee  {stepping foy7vard^.      Am  I  the  one  you  wish  to  see? 

Lem.  I  guess  you  be.  1  suppose  you  have  ht-aid  tell  all 
about  what  happened  in  town  last  night? 

L.EK  (dorai/zg).      Yes. 

Lem.  Well,  we  want  to  find  out  everything  we  can  'bout 
sech  a  mystery,  an'  we  feel  obleeged  to  inquire  about  any 
strangers  who  came  ter  town  last  night. 

Lee.  1  see.  Well,  my  name  is  Lee  Gordon.  I  came  down 
the  Cape  from  Boston  in  my  auto.  I  am  going  to  do  some 
sketching. 

Lem.  So?  Want  tew  know  !  Wal,  can  you  inform  me  if 
you  went  near  the  post-office  last  night? 

Lee.     I  may  have.      I  don't  know. 

Lem.  Do  you  know  your  glove  when  you  see  it  ?  Them's 
your  initials?     L.  G.  ? 

{Hands  Lee  a  heavy  driving  glove. ~) 

Lee.     Yes,  this  is  my  glove.      Where  did  you  find  it? 

Obad.  {dramatically^     I  found  it  on  the  post-office  steps. 

All.     What  ? 

Lee.  I'm  not  surprised.  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  to  know 
that  1  visited  the  meeting-house.  I  couldn't  tell  where  I  was 
going. 

Ber.     Of  course  you  couldn't.     This  is  all  foolishness. 

Lee.  Of  course  if  you  want  to  believe  I  was  mixed  up  in 
the  robbery  just  because  you  found  my  glove  on 

{He  is  carrying  his  raincoat  on  his  arm  and  as  he  speaks  he 
itnpatiently  flings  it  over  onto  the  other  arin  and  the  pipe 
which  Sam.  put  in  the  pocket  drops  to  the  floor.') 

Hep.     My  land  !     What's  that  ? 

Obad.  {at  the  top  of  his  voice).     It's  a  pipe  ! 

(Lem.  picks  it  up  and  examines  it.  Lee  looks  at  it  in  as- 
tonishment. Sam.  looks  frightened  and  begins  to  edge 
toward  the  door.) 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  4I 

Ber.  Well,  by  tunket,  hasn't  the  fellow  a  right  to  own  a 
pipe  ? 

Lkm.  He  has  sartain,  one  o'  his  own,  but  I  can't  no  wise 
S'^re  that  he  has  any  right  to  yourn,  Cap'n  Berry. 

(^Haiiils  it  to  Ber.,  to  ho  is  completely  staggered.) 

All.     What?     Did  you  ever  ?     It  is  !     Cap'n  Cranberry's  ! 

Sam.  {thinking  things  are  moving  in  a  manner  favorable  to 
him,  opens  sugar  bo7vl ).  And  here's  another  in  Miss  Cynthy's 
sug.ir  l)(jwl  ! 

All.      What? 

CvN.  [ilroppins;  into  a  chair).     Mercy  sakes  ! 

HbP.     Land,  Cynlhy's  overcome  ! 

{Grabs  clothes  sprinkler  from  table  and  sprinkles  Cyn.) 

Lem.  {to  Lee).  Wal,  now  what  hev  you  got  to  say,  young 
man  ? 

Lee.  Absolutely  nothing.  I  haven't  words  equal  to  this 
occasion. 

Lem.     What  room  did  he  sleep  in  last  night.  Miss  Cynthy? 

Cyn.  {sufficiently  recovered  to  be  indignant').  I  shan't  tell 
you.  He  never  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  in  the  world, 
never  ! 

Lee  [gratefully).  That's  mighty  kind  of  you,  Miss  Tinker, 
but  it  is  also  foolish.  {To  Lem.)  My  room  is  up-siairs,  the 
first  on  tiie  right.  \_Exit  Lem.  by  stairs. 

Obad.     Wal,  I  cal'late  there  ain't  much  more  ter  be  said. 

Akucr,  {stepping forward).  Well,  there  is  a  whole  lot  more. 
Mr.  Gordon  is  a  friend  of  mine. 

All.      What?     He  is  ? 

Hep.     Do  tell  ! 

Abner.      Well,  how  long  since? 

AuiEt..      Quite  a  long  time  since. 

Abner.  Is  that  so?  Queer  I  never  heard  of  him  before. 
Wiiere  did  you  meet  him  ? 

Ariel.  At  a  friend's  in  New  Haven  while  Mr.  Gordon  was 
at  Yale. 

Nat.  If  you  knew  Mr.  Gordon  at  Yale  perhaps  you  know 
how  he  happened  to  leave  collegt- ? 

Ariel.  Yes,  I  know.  He  It-fi  iiniler  circumstances  which 
didn't  look  favorable  to  him  but  none  of  his  friends  believed 
he  was  at  all  to  bUime,  any  more  than  I  believe  it  now. 

Hep.     Well,  do  tell ! 


42  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Nat.  Mr.  Gordon  always  seems  to  be  found  under  circuna- 
stances  which  look  anything  but  favorable  to  hinnself. 

.^BNER.      How  do  you  happen  to  know  this  fellow,  Nat? 

Nat.  He  is  the  son  of  Howland  Gordon,  the  man  I  sail 
for.  After  he  was  expelled  from  Yale  he  went  to  work  for  his 
f.iiher.  He  is  just  leaving  his  father  under  circumstances 
which  don't  look  favorable. 

(Lem.  comes  down  the  stairs.') 

Ob  AD.     Find  anything,  Lem  ? 

LicM.     Yes,  by  Crismus,  three  more  pipes  !     (Shows  them.) 

All.     What?     You  don't  say?     Let's  see ! 

Cyn.  (overcome).      My  land  !     My  land  ! 

Hicp.  (jtpplyin^  clothes  sprinkler).     There,  Cynthy  !     There  ! 

Lem.  (to  Lee).     Well,  young  man,  I  guess  I'll  arrest  you  ! 

Lee  (jvith  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders).  All  right  !  Go 
ahead  ! 

Ber.  (wrathfully).      Yes,  go  ahead,  and  I'll  bail  him  out! 

Lee.  I'll  admit  that  you  have  plenty  of  evidence  against 
me,  but  here  comes  a  man  who  can  at  least  explain  my  connec- 
tion with  those  pipes.      (Points  to  the  pipes  in  Lem.'s  hand.) 

Enter  Peter,  c. 

Peter  (^toppin^  short  and  looking  at  the  assembled  company 
in  astonishment).  By  my  faith,  I  didn't  know  it  was  old  home 
week  ! 

Lem.  (to  Petek).  Young  man,  what  do  you  know  about 
this  fellow? 

Peter  (innocently,  pointing  to  Lee).  What  do  I  know  ? 
About  him  ?  Absolutely  nothing  !  I  never  saw  him  before  in 
my  life  ! 

(Lem.  claps  his  hand  on  Lee's  shoulder  and  walks  him  to 
the  door.  Cyn.  is  overcome  and  Hep.  again  applies  the 
clothes  sprinkler.) 


CURTAIN 


ACT  III 

SCENE. — A  room  in  Abneh's  old  fish-house,  supposed  to  be 
on  the  shore.  There  is  one  exit,  L.  An  old-fashioned 
bureau,  r.  A  doll' s  house.  Some  rag  rugs  on  the  floor. 
Some  old  chairs.  An  old  lounge,  l,.,  frotit.  A  havunock. 
On  a  stage  where  it  is  possible  there  should  be  a  large  door 
in  tlie  center  with  a  vietv  of  the  water  beyond.  An  ijnpres- 
sion  of  the  room  being  up-stairs  would  add  to  the  scene. 

{As  the  curtain  rises,  Sam.  stands  by  the  exit  listetiing.) 

Abner  (outside).  Come  up  stairs,  Nat  !  (Sam.  gives  a 
frightened  look  around  the  room  and  crawls  under  the  sofa. 
Nat  a//^/ Abmek  enter.')  This  is  a  good  place  to  talk  things 
over.  Hardly  any  one  but  Arey  ever  comes  up  here.  (If 
there  is  a  door  c,  he  throius  it  open.)  There's  a  fine  view  from 
here.  On  a  clear  day  you  can  see  way  down  to  High  Land. 
This  used  to  be  Arey's  playhouse. 

Nat  {looking  about).  Well  I  know  that.  We  boys  used  to 
come  up  here  to  tease  the  girls  because  the  cake  that  went  with 
the  tea  parties  appealed  to  us.  It  was  here  I  fell  in  love  with 
Arey.     It  was  here  I  first  asked  her  to  marry  me. 

Abxer.     I'm  sorry,  Nat,  that  Arey  doesn't  care  for  you. 

Nat.     It's  plain  to  see  now  why  she  doesn't  care. 

Abner.     Nonsense  ! 

Nat.  No  nonsense  about  it.  Look  at  the  way  she  took  the 
part  of  that  darned  little  sand  peep.  Well,  I'll  make  her  see 
what  he  is  before  I  get  through. 

Abner.  You  are  crazy  jealous,  Nat.  Don't  make  a  fool 
of  yourself.  Ariel  is  good-hearted  and  impulsive,  and  quick  to 
take  the  part  of  any  one  who  is  in  trouble. 

Nat.     She  wouldn't  help  me  if  I  was  dying. 

Abner  {i?npatiently).  Well,  perhaps  she  wouldn't !  Might 
as  well  say  one  thing  as  another.  It's  a  waste  of  time  and 
energy  to  argue  with  a  man  who  is  madly  in  love  and  insanely 
jealous. 

Nat.  Are  you  going  to  let  her  take  up  with  this  little  crook 
and  throw  me  over  ? 

43 


44  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Abner.  Crook  is  a  strong  word,  Nat.  The  boy  may  have 
been  expelled  from  college,  and  may  be  in  wrong  with  his 
father,  but  he  didn't  break  into  the  post-office  last  night.  I 
think  it  is  more  than  likely  that  he  called  there  in  his  efforts  to 
find  a  boarding  place.  1  was  scared  off  by  some  one's  knock- 
ing on  the  door. 

Nat  {with  an  exclamation  of  satisfaction').  Ah  !  Then 
you  admit  that  you  were  the  one  who  entered  the  post-office? 

Abnek.  Certainly.  1  don't  know  how  I  am  going  to  pull 
out,  but  I  can't  let  this  fellow  face  a  charge  of  which  1  am 
guilty.      How  did  you  know  1  was  there  ? 

Nat.  After  we  had- our  little  talk  last  night,  I  guessed  you 
would  go  there  and  1  followed  you.  1  thought  you  might  be 
interested  in  looking  over  Cap'n  Obed's  old  papers. 

Abner.  Yes,  1  was.  Well,  now  we  will  face  the  situation. 
I  have  several  times  offered  you  money  which  you  have  refused 
to  take. 

Nat.  I'm  not  interested  in  money.  I'm  doing  well  enough. 
You  know  what  1  want. 

Abnek.  Yes,  I  do  know.  You  want  me  to  actually  force 
my  daughter  into  marrying  you. 

Nat.  Well,  why  not  ?  You  admit  I  am  all  right.  There 
is  no  reason  why  she  wouldn't  be  happy  with  me. 

Abner.  And  in  case  1  refuse,  just  what  are  you  going 
to  do? 

Nat.  Well,  of  course  I  don't  suppose  you  want  all  your  old 
friends  and  neighbors  to  know  how  you  cheated  my  father  and 
old  Joel  Tinker,  and  of  course  now  there  is  Miss  Cynthy. 

Abner.  Well,  I  Ciin't  see  any  way  of  givmg  her  money 
wiliiout  telling  the  whole  thing. 

Nat.     Tiie  land  this  building  stands  on  is  hers,  isn't  it? 

Abner.  I'm  not  saying  just  what  belongs  to  her.  {Sud- 
denly and  determinedly.')  See  here,  Nat,  if  you  can  show  me 
a  way  out  of  the  hole  1  am  in,  I  will  see  what  I  can  do  with 
Arey. 

Nat.  That  sounds  like  sense.  Get  Ariel  to  give  me  her 
promise  and  I'll  hand  over  ihe  papers  I  stole  from  Obed's  safe 
last  winter,  and  you  will  never  hear  another  word  from  me. 

Abner.  Well,  what  about  last  night?  I  was  a  tarnation 
fool. 

Nat.  I'll  take  the  responsibility  5f  it.  I'll  say  that  I  did 
it.  I'll  hatch  up  an  excuse  of  some  kind.  I  don't  suppose 
you  really  made  away  with  anything  ?     {Laughs.) 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  45 

Abner.  It  isn't  at  all  likely.  Obed  will  find  all  his  stuff  after 
a  while.  I  couldn't  very  well  speak  up  and  tell  him  where  1 
put  the  money  box. 

Nat.  Well,  if  he  doesn't  find  it,  you  can  tell  me,  and  I  will 
tell  them  where  it  is  when  I  get  around  to  a  confession. 

Abneu.  Well,  that  will  pull  young  Gordon  out  of  the  post- 
office  business,  but  it  doesn't  make  it  out  he  didn't  steal  about 
six  pipes.      Mine  is  accounted  for. 

Nat.  Oh,  Gordon  is  up  to  something.  That's  the  kind  of 
a  little  snipe  he  is.  His  father  has  nothing  but  trouble  with 
him.      How  soon  will  you  see  Arey  ? 

Abner.  Right  off.  I  don't  see  that  we  have  provided  any 
way  to  straighten  things  out  with  Miss  Cynlhy. 

Nat  (easi/y).  Well,  she  has  managed  to  pull  along  all  these 
years.  Why  fret  now?  What  she  doesn't  know  isn't  going  to 
hurt  her. 

Lem.   {outside).     Cap'n  Abner,  are  you  up  there? 

Abner  {s[oing  to  door).     Yes. 

Obad.  Well,  for  the  love  o'  Admiral  Dewey,  listen  to 
this  !      {Enters,  followed  by  Lem.) 

Lem.  Say,  Obed  has  discovered  that  there  weren't  nothin' 
took  from  the  post-office  last  night. 

Obad.  Gosh  all  fog  horns,  no  !  I  found  the  money  box  ! 
Not  a  cent  gone  I  Everydiing  upset  from  one  end  the  place  to 
the  other,  and  nothing  took  !  That  young  Gordon  chap  must 
be  a  lunatic.  Cranberry  has  gone  his  bail,  but  1  reckon  he 
ought  ter  be  in  an  asylum  instead  o'  traveling  around  loose. 

Lem.  Wal,  it's  the  durndest  piece  o'  business  I  ever  heard 
tell  on,  and  everybody  don't  believe  he  took  all  those  pipes 
even  if  there  is  so  much  evidence  against  him.  Some  •says  it 
was  a  big  fellow  and  some  says  it  was  a  little  one. 

Obad.  1  slick  to  it  the  man  that  stole  my  pipe  wuz  a  little 
bit  of  a  feller.  He  up  behind  me  and  put  his  hand  in  my 
pocket  {illustrating  as  he  talks)  an'  scat  before  you  could  so 
much  as  wink. 

Lem.     Yes,  an'  Jim  Hincks  says  he  wuz  a  big  feller. 

Abner.  And  Sammy  said  so  once,  and  then  he  shied  off 
and  wouldn't  say  much  of  anything. 

Obad.  No  wonder.  The  way  Lem  talks  at  the  kid  is 
enough  to  frighten  a  whale. 

Lem.  An'  Cranberry  didn'  know  when  his  pipe  was  took 
and  wouldn't  say  nothin'  if  he  did.  He's  took  an  awful  shine 
to  Miss  Cynlhy's  boarder. 


46  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Obad.  Say,  suppose  we  find  the  feller  and  tell  him  we 
found  out  he  didn't  take  nothin'  from  the  post-office  an'  see 
what  he  says. 

All.     That's  right.     Good  idee  ! 

Lem.  Maybe  he'll  own  up  'bout  the  pipes  if  he  finds  out 
the  charge  agin  him  ain't  so  serious. 

Obad.  Maybe  so,  but  it's  my  opinion  the  feller  is  plumb 
crazy. 

{They  all  start  to  exeunt.     Ariel  comes  to  door  followed  by 
Hep.) 

Ariel.  Father,  are  you  here?  {Sfops  abruptly.)  Oh,  a 
meeting  of  the  vigilance  committee?     is  Sammy  up  here  ? 

Abner.     No. 

Ariel.  Hepsy  can't  find  him,  and  sometimes  he  comes  up 
here  when  1  am  home,  you  know,  so  I  thought  perhaps  he  was 
here. 

Hep.  My  land  !  I've  been  all  over  town.  I'm  beat  out. 
He  didn't  go  to  school  and  I  ain't  seen  him  since  he  was  over 
to  Cynth's  this  morning. 

Obad.  By  tunket,  I  don't  blame  the  kid.  He  will  run 
away  some  o'  these  days  an'  never  come  back,  an'  it'll  serve 
Lem  durned  right, 

Lem.  {angrily).  What  in  thunderation  would  I  do  ?  Let 
him  grow  up  to  be  a  teetotal  liar  ? 

Obad.  Gosh  all  fog  horns,  yes,  if  he  wants  ter  be  !  Half 
the  world  gets  their  living  that  way  ! 

(All  exeunt  but  Ariel.     Abner  comes  back.) 

Abner.     You  are  going  to  stay  up  here,  Arey  ? 

Ariel.  I  think  so,  dad,  a  little  while.  I  haven't  been  up 
here  since  last  summer. 

Abner  (uneasily).  You — you  were  always  happy  up  here, 
httle  girl  ? 

Ariel.  Yes,  dad,  and  happiest  when  I  knew  you  were 
down-stairs. 

Abner.  And  I  was  happy  when  I  knew  you  were  up  here. 
Arey,  I  have  tried  to  be  a  good  father  to  you  and  give  you  a 
happy  home. 

Ariel  (going  to  Jmn  and  putting  her  arms  around  him). 
You  have,  dad  !  You  have  I  No  girl  could  ask  for  a  kinder 
father  or  a  happier  home. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  47 

Abner.  And  I  want  to  know  you  are  going  to  have  a 
happy  home  when  I'm  gone.  Arey,  Nat's  really  in  love  with 
you. 

Ariel  (Jurjiing  aivay  from  hhti).     Oh,  father  ! 

Abner.  If  you  knew  it  meant  a  good  deal  to  me,  would  you 
tell  him  yes?  To  please  me?  To  help  me?  He  could  give 
you  a  good  home.     Could  make  you  happy. 

Ariel  {slowly  turning  to  him).  Do  you  mean — there  is  a — 
a  reason  why  you  want  me  to  marry  Nat?  That  I  really  could 
help  you  by  marrying  him? 

Abner.     Yes,  that's  what  I  mean. 

Ariel.  I  can't  understand  how  such  a  thing  can  be,  but  if 
that  is  the  case  I  will  do  it  for  you,  if  you  will  tell  him  I  don't 
care  for  him  and  explain  the  reason  I  am  marrying  him.  Will 
you  do  that? 

Abner.     Yes. 

Ariel  {turning  away).     Very  well. 

Abner  {stepping  totvard  her).     Arey! 

Ariel  {luith  an  effort).  Dad,  will  you  go  away  please  and 
leave  me  alone  ? 

Abner  {hesitating  a  second).     Very  well. 

(^Exits  ivith  bowed  head.     Ariel  gives  a  long  sigh,  goes  to 
C.   door  and  stands  looking  out  for  a  second,  then  goes  to 
doll  house,   opens   door   and  takes  out  a  large  doll.     She 
goes  to  bureau,   unlocks  a  draiver,  takes  out  a  small  box. 
Suddenly   leans  foriuard  on   the  bureau,  her  head  on  the 
doll.) 
AuiEL.     Oh,  Alicia,  has  it  come  to  this?     (Sam.  crawls  cau- 
tiously out  from  under  sofa.      He  steals  toward  the  hammock 
and  throios  a  pipe  into  it,  then  starts  for  door.     Ariel  sud- 
denly turns.)     Who  is  it?     Who  is  there? 

{She  starts  foriuard.    Sam.  hastily  crawls  under  sofa  again. 
Ariel  walks  forward  with  the  little  box  in  her  hand.) 

Ber.    {outside).      Ship  ahoy  !      Anybody  on  deck? 

Ariel  {going  to  door).  Father  isn't  here.  Captain  Berry. 
I'm  up  here  alone. 

Ber.     That  so?     Can  I  come  up? 

Ariel.  Why,  certainly,  if  you  like.  (Ber.  enters.)  This 
is  my  playhouse  up  here.  I  have  s|)ent  the  happiest  days  of 
my  life  up  here  in  this  old  room.  I  think  I  have  spent  the  only 
happy  ones  I  will  ever  know. 


48  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Ber.  Nonsense  !  That's  a  pretty  way  for  a  young  girl  like 
you  to  be  talking,  jest  when  you  got  all  your  life  before  you. 

Ariel.  1  wish  I  didn't  have.  I  wish  this  was  the  last  day 
of  my  life. 

Ber.  (aghasi').  Miss  Freeman,  you  don't  know  what  you 
are  saying.  Something  must  have  happened  to  pretty  much 
upset  you.  You  don't  look  like  a  coward.  I  can't  somehow 
believe  you  are  one. 

A  KIEL  {surprised^     A  coward  ? 

Bek.  It's  only  a  coward,  a  pretty  contemptible  one  at  that, 
who  would  rather  die  than  face  what's  coming  to  him. 

Ariel  {suddenly  standing  stt  aiglit  and  ihrotuitig  her  head 
up).  You  are  right.  I  didn't  think  of  tiiat.  Thank  you, 
Captain  Berry.  That  was  just  what  1  needed  to  hear.  You — 
you  spend  a  good  deal  of  time  over  here  in  town,  don't  you? 

Ber.  {smiH/ig).  Is  that  a  reflection  on  my  duties  as  keeper 
of  Bay  Point  Light? 

Ariel  (hastily).  Oh,  no,  no,  no  !  I  didn't  mean  that.  I 
was  just  thinking  that  you  must  like  our  town.  1  know  you 
have  an  assistant,  and  any  one  doesn't  have  to  meet  you  but 
once  to  realize  that  your  duty  would  stand  before  anything  else 
in  the  world. 

Ber.  {pleased  and  touched).  Why,  Miss  Freeman,  I  thank 
you  for  that  from  the  bottom  of  ray  heart.  You  can't  under- 
stand how  much  I  appreciate  that  coming  from  you. 

Ariel.     Why  from  me,  especially?     Oh  ! 

{Drops  the  little  box  and  a  little  ring.) 

Ber.  {picking  them  up  and  looking  at  the  ring  fascinated). 
What  is  this  ? 

Ariel  {slorvly).  That — that  is  a  link,  Captain  Berry.  The 
only  connecting  link  between  Ariel  Freeman  and  the  girl  she 
really  is. 

Ber.  {breathing  hard).     What  do  you  mean? 

Ariel.  I  suppose  you  know  I'm  not  Captain  Freeman's 
daughter?     Everybody  knows. 

Ber.     Yes,  I've  heard. 

Ariel.  That  little  ring  is  the  only  thing  which  could  throw 
any  light  on  who  I  really  am.  That  was  on  my  finger,  and 
that  was  absolutely  all  there  was  to  help. 

Ber.     How  did  this  help  ? 

Ariel.     There  is  a  name  engraved  inside  the  ring. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  49 

Ber.   {slowly).     And  the  name  is  Alicia. 

Ariel.     Why,  wlio  told  you  that? 

Ber.  {realising  what  he  has  said).  Why— why — it's  right 
here  !  {Hastily  examines  the  ring.)  You  can  see  it  for  your- 
self! 

AuiEf..  You  have  wonderful  eyes.  I  have  always  k:;0\vn 
what  the  name  is,  and  I  have  hard  work  to  trace  it.  You  see 
what  a  curious  little  old-fashioned  ring  it  is;  it  has  a  German 
mark  in  it.  Ca[)lain  Freeman  tracetl  this  to  a  German  jeweler 
wlio  in  1878  engraved  the  name  Ahcia  in  a  baby  ring  for  a 
Mrs.  Emerson.  The  address  was  a  hotel  in  Berlin.  Father 
moved  heaven  and  earth  to  trace  it  still  further,  but  that  was 
all  he  ever  found  out.  He  decided  that  my  mother  must  have 
been  Alicia  Emerson,  but  whom  she  married,  who  my  father  is, 
will  probably  always  remain  unknown.  Somewhere  in  the  world 
I  may  have  a  mother — a  father. 

Ber.      You  have  been  hapi:)y  iiere  ? 

Ariel.  Oh,  yes,  indeed.  1  couldn't  have  had  a  kinder 
father  than  Captain  Freeman.  Gracious,  Captain  Berry,  I 
can't  imagine  why  I  have  lolil  you  all  these  things!  1  never 
speak  of  tiieii-!  to  any  one  but  Miss  Cynthy.  Somehow  you 
seem  to  be  the  kind  of  man  one  tells  their  innermost  secrets  to. 
It  was  so  kind  of  you  to  help  Lee  Gordon  this  morning. 

Bek.  Nonsense  !  Nothing  kind  about  it.  Justice,  that's 
all.      He  ain't  any  more  guilty  than  I  am. 

Ariel.     You  really  tliink  so? 

Ber.     Certain  !     One  look  at  his  face  will  tell  you  that. 

Ariel.     But  the  evidence  against  him?     Such  a  lot  of  it ! 

Ber.     By  tunket,  the  circumstantial  kind  or  I'll  eat  my  hat. 

Ariel.  Why,  Captain  Berry  {suddenly  grabbing  pipe  from 
hammock),  look  !  Here's  a  pipe  in  ray  hammock  !  What  in 
the  world 

Ber.  {taking  pipe).  Jumping  jingoes !  Seth  Mason's ! 
Got  his  name  on  it  ! 

Ariel.  I  thought  some  one  was  up  here  just  before  you 
came  up.  It  seemed  to  me  that  some  one  who  was  small  was 
moving  around.  I  was  over  by  the  bureau  and  I  can't  see 
across  the  room,  you  know.  I  was  startled  for  a  second  and  by 
the  time  I  got  my  senses  together  to  cross  the  room  they  were 
gone. 

Ber.  Um  !  So?  {Looks  about.  Crosses  room  away 
^yom  Ariel.  He  suddenly  stoops  and  looks  under  sofa.) 
This  is  a  queer  mix  up,  ain't  it  ?     {Bell rings.)     What's  that? 


50  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Ariel.  That's  the  house  bell.  Dad  had  it  connected  so 
we  could  hear  it  when  we  were  over  here' and  Hannah  was  out. 
I  think  she  is  out  now.  I  will  just  run  over  to  the  house  if  you 
will  excuse  me. 

Ber.  Certain  !  (Auiel  exits.  Beu.  goes  to  sofa.')  Come 
out !  Come  out  here,  I  say  !  It's  no  use,  Sammy  !  J  have 
caught  you  square  !  You  might  as  well  come  out  !  All  right 
then  !  I'll  bring  you  out  myself.  {Reaches  under  sofa  and 
pulls  Sam.  out  by  one  foot.  Sam.  yells  and  kicks.)  Belay 
there  !  That  ain't  no  way  to  act  with  your  old  uncle.  I  ain't 
going  to  hurt  you.  {Sits  doivn  on  sofa  and  holds  Sam.  ///  his 
arms.)     Now  hush  up,  and  tell  Uncle  Cran  the  whole  business. 

Sam.  {struggling  to  get  azvay).  No  !  1  ain't  got  nothin'  to 
tell  ! 

Ber.  Oh,  yes,  you  have,  Sammy !  Sit  still  !  You  tell 
Uncle  Cran  what  you  stole  all  those  pipes  for.  I  was  the  only 
one  in  the  room  that  was  watching  you  this  morning,  and  I 
guessed  somewheres  near  the  truth.  You  were  frightened  when 
that  i^ipe  fell  out  of  Mr.  Gordon's  pocket,  and  then  when  you 
found  that  no  one  was  going  to  suspect  you,  you  opened  up  the 
sugar-bowl  and  took  the  other  one  out,  and  now  you  just 
brought  ihis  one  up  here  and  put  it  in  Arey's  hammock. 

Sam.    {thoroughly  frightened).      Pa  will  kill  me  ! 

Beu.  No,  he  won't.  Now  listen,  Sammy,  this  whole  thing 
has  got  to  come  out  some  way.  Your  fatlier  will  get  it  out  of 
you,  and  you  know  how  he  will  get  it.  Now,  you  tell  me  the 
truth  and  I'll  promise  you  that  1  will  make  things  right  with 
your  father.  J  won't  let  him  touch  you.  You  can  trust  me, 
can't  you  ? 

Sam.    {holding  him  around  the  neck).     Yes,  Uncle  Cran. 

Bek.  Well,  then,  when  did  you  get  a  chance  to  go  up  into 
Mr.  Gordon's  room  and  leave  those  three  pipes  there? 

Sam.     I  didn't  take  those. 

Beu.  {reproachfully).  Now,  Sammy,  I  said  if  you  told  me 
the  truth. 

Sam.  That's  the  truth,  Uncle  Cran  !  1  took  this  pipe,  and 
the  one  in  the  sugar-bowl  and  the  one  in  Mr.  Gordon's  pocket, 
but  I  didn't  take  the  others. 

Bek.  By  Crismus,  you  look  as  if  you  were  telling  a  straight 
story.  Why  in  the  name  o'  all  that's  sensible  did  you  steal  any 
of  the  pipes  ? 

Sam.  Well,  a  man  took  dad's  away  from  me,  an'  maw 
^citt'*' believe  it  and  I  knew  there  wouldn't  any  one  believe  it. 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  5I 

and  pa  whales  the  stuffins  out  of  me  for  telHng  things  and — 
and — I  thought  if  some  more  people  lost  their  pipes  he'd  be- 
lieve me.      So  I  stole  three  and — and — pa  had  to  believe  me. 

Ber.  {strikins;  his  knee).  Well,  by  tunkel,  if  that  ain't  one 
on  Lein  !  {Suddenly  looks  serious  and  speaks  half  to  himself.') 
But  belay  there,  Cranberry  !  You  ain't  got  but  half  the  story 
yet!  There's  those  other  pipes!  Well,  Sammy,  I'll  pull  you 
out  of  this  some  way,  although  I  don't  know  as  it's  the  right 
thing  for  me  to  do. 

Sam.  {stretching).  Oh,  I'm  awful  tired  !  I  been  layin'  un- 
der this  sofa  awful  long.  More'n  an  hour,  more'n  three  hours, 
I  guess.  Nat  Wiliiains  was  up  here  an'  Cap'n  Abner.  Say, 
Uncle  Cran,  it  was  Cap'n  Abner  that  broke  into  the  post-office 
last  night. 

Bek.  {at  the  top  of  his  voice).     What  ? 

Sam.  He  was  hunting  for  a  paper.  And — and — Cap'n 
Abner  cheated  Miss  Cynthy.  Nat  said  the  land  this  house 
stands  on  belongs  to  her,  and — and — Cap'n  Abner  cheated 
Nat's  father,  too, — and — and — Cap'n  Abner  is  going  to  make 
Miss  Arey  marry  Nat — and — and — she  cried  over  \\\t\^  {point- 
ing to  bureau)  on  top  of  her  doll — and — and — I  guess  1  don't 
remember  any  more. 

Ber.     Well,  that's  quite  sufficient  if  it's  truth  you  are  telling. 

Sam.  Of  course  it  is  !  I  wouldn't  tell  you  any  stories, 
Uncle  Cran. 

Bek.  {a  trifle  dazed).  All  right.  Now  listen,  Sammy,  you 
forget  this  stuff  you  have  been  telling  me  jest  as  soon  as  ever 
you  can.  Don't  you  breathe  a  word  of  it  to  a  living  soul.  If 
I  ever  hear  that  you  have,  I'll  forget  to  make  peace  with  your 
father,  and  there  won't  be  any  more  trips  with  me  over  to  the 
Point  to  visit  the  light. 

Sam.  Oil,  I'll  never  tell.  Uncle  Cran  !  Honest  I  Hope 
to  die  ! 

Ber.  All  right.  Now  you  go  and  find  Cap'n  Abner  and 
tell  him  that  I  am  up  here  and  want  to  see  him.  Then  you  go 
home  as  hard  as  you  can  pelt.  Your  mother  is  looking  for 
you. 

Sam.  {exits).     All  right,  Uncle  Cran. 

{Slight  pause.     Ber.   sits  on  the  sofa  looking  dozvn  at  the 
floor. ) 

Ber.     Great  jumping  jingoes  ! 

Enter  Lee  and  Peter. 


52  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Lee.  Captain  Berry,  I  was  just  talking  with  Miss  Freeman 
and  slie  said  you  were  up  liere.  I  can't  tell  you  how  much  I 
appreciate  your  kindness  to  me.  1  don't  see  how  you  ever 
happened  to  stand  by  a  stranger  the  way  you  did. 

Beu.      1  guess  it  was  because  you  are  Miss  Cynthy's  boarder. 

Lee.  Captain  Berry,  this  is  Mr.  Pomeroy  and  (Javghivg) 
he  is  the  best  friend  1  have  got  on  this  earth. 

Bek.  (^shaking  hands  with  Peter).  Well,  he  certain  didn't 
act  tlie  part  this  morning. 

Peter.     Entirely  his  own  fault,  I  assure  you. 

Lee.     Say,  Captain,  may  we  talk  with  you  for  a  little  while? 

Ber.     Certain  !      Glad  to  have  you.     Sit  down. 

Lee.  You  have  proved  such  a  good  friend  that  we  are 
tempted  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  things  and  tell  you  our  part 
in  this  affair. 

Ber.  Heave  ahead  !  If  you  can  throw  a  search-light  on  the 
mystery  it  will  be  a  good  thing. 

Lee.  It  is  true  that  I  have  been  expelled  from  college  and 
that  I'm  in  trouble  with  my  father. 

Peter  (Jieartily).  He  isn't  to  blame  in  either  case.  Captain 
"Berry. 

Lee  {to  Petek).  Thanks,  old  man.  {Turns  to  Ber.) 
When  I  was  at  Yale  I  was  connected  with  a  college  magazine 
and  I  have  several  times  been  told  that  I  had  a  great  future 
ahead  of  me  as  a  newspaper  man  or  magazine  editor.  My 
friend  Pomeroy  here  had  to  leave  college  last  year  because  an 
invalid  uncle  who  had  brought  him  up  was  dying.  The  uncle 
left  Pete  all  his  money  and  when  I  got  into  a  mess  with  dad, 
Pete  suggested  that  he  buy  a  magazine  he  had  heard  about 
that  was  on  its  last  legs  and  see  if  we  could  give  it  a  brace.  I 
jumped  at  the  chance.  It  was  what  I  would  most  like  on 
earth.  Pete  bought  it  and  we  have  started  to  publish  and  edit 
a  startling  fiction  magazine  called  The  Red  Cap.  For  a 
starter  we  have  announced  a  serial  detective  story — "The 
Mystery  of  the  Seven  Pipes." 

Ber.     Well,  by  tunket  I 

Peter.  It's,  going  to  be  tlie  greatest  thing  on  record.  We 
write  all  but  the  last  chapter  and  offer  a  prize  for  the  best  solu- 
tion of  the  mystery.  Gee  !  Folks  run  after  the  first  issue  as 
'f  it  was  soothing  syrup  and  they  had  a  kid  with  the  colic.  I 
had  been  down  on  the  Cape,  so  I  suggested  that  we  lay  the 
scene  down  here  somewhere. 

Lee.     And   to  give  local  color  I  suggested  that  we  come 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  53 

down  and  carry  out  some  of  ihe  story  ourselves.  Last  night 
when  we  arrived  there  was  a  thick  fog  and  it  seemed  a  good 
chance  to  make  a  start.  We  drew  lots  and  it  fell  to  Pete  to 
steal  tiie  pipes. 

Peter.  W^e  planned  on  stealing  seven  but  I  only  got  as  far 
as  three. 

Lee  (^/aiighing).  For  the  love  of  Pete,  have  you  any  idea 
who  took  the  other  four  ? 

Be!<.  Yes,  by  tuuket,  I  have  !  This  beats  the  Dutch  and 
no  mistake  !  You  go  find  Obed  and  Lem  and  tell  them  what 
you  have  told  me.  Then  you  bring  them  back  here  and  we 
will  clear  up  the  mystery. 

Lee  (^  Jumping  up).     Done,  by  jingo  ! 

Peter.     Lead  us  to  it  !  \_Tliey  exeunt, 

(Slighi  pause.     Abner  enters.) 

Abner.     Did  you  send  Sammy  after  me  ? 

Ber.  Yes,  I  did.  I've  got  something  to  say  to  you  and  I 
thought  this  would  be  a  good  place  up  here.  Cap'n  Freeman, 
I'm  Ariel's  father. 

Abner  {sta^^ered).  What  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  {Sud- 
denly growing  furious.)  What  kind  of  a  trick  is  this?  Do 
you  expect  me  to  take  your  word  for  it  ?     What's  your  game  ? 

Ber.  {calmly).  I  married  Alicia  Emerson  twenty  years  ago 
this  month.  Two  years  later  she  and  our  year  old  daughter 
made  a  trip  with  me.  We  ran  into  a  storm  and  were  wrecked. 
My  wife's  body  was  recovered.  The  child's  was  not.  I  sup- 
posed her  dead,  of  course.  She  wore  a  ring,  a  ring  that  had 
been  her  mother's.  It  had  her  name,  Alicia,  engraved  in  it, 
also  the  mark  of  a  German  jeweler  and 

Abmer  (Jioarsely).  Enough  !  How  long  have  you  known 
this? 

Ber.  I  guessed  it  last  night  when  I  saw  Alicia's  face  in 
your  daugliter.     I  made  sure  of  the  truth  this  afternoon. 

Abner.  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do?  She  is  under 
age.  The  law  would  give  her  to  you,  I  suppose.  Are  you 
going  to  take  her  away  from  me  after  all  these  years  ? 

Ber.     You  love  her? 

Abner.  How  can  you  ask  such  a  question?  She  is  all  I 
have  !     Ask  any  one  in  Bay  Point.      Ask  the  girl  herself  ! 

Ber.  {quietly).  And  yet  loving  her  you  ask  her  to  marry  a 
man  she  doesn't  love.     Kind  of  curious,  ain't  it? 


54  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

Abner  (^furiously).  Now  see  here,  Cranberry,  that's  my 
business. 

Ber.  {ilecidedly).  It's  mine,  also.  She  is  my  daughter.  If 
you  will  not  give  the  girl  happiness,  I  will  take  her  from  you 
and  give  it  to  her  myself. 

Abner  Qiesperalely).     You  mean  that — that 

Ber.  Just  this  I  Drop  this  Nat  Williams  business  and 
never  take  it  up  again,  and  give  Miss  Cynthy  Tinker  what  you 
owe  her. 

Abner.     What  do  you  know  about  Cynthy  Tinker? 

Ber.  What  does  it  matter  ?  I  know  you  have  been  cheat- 
ing her  for  years.     Do  you  want  me  to  go  into  details  ? 

Abner  (jias/i/y).     No.      Supposing  I  refuse? 

Bek.  Well,  it  will  be  my  gain.  I  shall  be  able  to  find  a 
little  happiness  with  my  daughter.  I  only  had  her  a  year.  I 
only  had  her  mother  two  years.  Then  they  were  both  taken 
from  me  at  the  same  lime.  I've  had  a  lonely  life,  always  at 
sea  or  keeping  a  light  on  some  dismal  point.  Often  when  ihe 
gales  have  come  and  the  storms  have  lashed  around  the  old 
house  and  there's  been  nobody  but  jest  old  Cranberry  and  his 
pipe,  I  have  looked  around  my  lonely  setlin'  room  and  won- 
dered how  it  would  seem  to  have  Alicia  on  the  other  side  of 
the  fire  and  a  little  girl  on  the  floor  near  by. 

Abner.  My  heaven,  Berry,  I  hadn't  thought  of  your  part 
of  this  ! 

Ber.  "  No,  we  usually  get  our  own  point  of  view.  Mighty 
seldom  we  get  the  other  fellow's. 

Abner.  And  if — if  I  agree  you  are  willing  to  swear  you 
will  not  take  the  girl  ? 

Ber.     On  my  word  of  honor.     You  do  love  the  girl  after  all. 

Abner.  But  great  heaven,,  man,  I  can't  square  things  with 
Cynthy  Tinker  without  having  people  know  the  facts.  Nat 
will  tell. 

Ber.  Why  don't  you  do  the  telling  yourself?  If  you  have 
been  cheating  perfectly  innocent  people  I  think  you  will  find 
that  confession  is  a  good  thing  for  a  guilty  conscience.  Any- 
way you  have  two  paths  to  choose  from,  and  you  know  what  is 
at  the  end  of  each. 

(Lee  a//if  Peter  rush  in,  h.\\\^\.follo7tis.     Obad.  atid  N.at. 
and  Lem.,  Cyn.  last  with  a  letter  in  her  hand.) 

Lee.  Well,  Captain,  we  have  told  them  !  And  it  didn't 
kill  them  either  ! 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  55 

Peteu.     Yes,  they  rejoice  in  all  the  horrible  details. 

Obad.  Gosh  all  fog  horns  I  should  say  we  did  !  Did  any 
one  ever  hear  the  like?  A  story!  "Mystery  of  the  Seven 
Pipes  !  " 

LiiM.  I  always  said  writers  wuz  half  cracked.  I  never  was 
so  sure  of  it  as  I  am  this  minit  !  But  the  mystery  ain't  all 
cleared  by  a  long  sight.  Mr.  Pomeroy  only  took  three  pipes. 
Who  took  tlie  other  four  ? 

Bkk.  I  suppose,  Lem,  as  constable  of  Bay  Point,  you  would 
like  lo  iiave  llie  mystery  cleared  up? 

Lkm.  1  sartaiu  would,  and  then  1  could  go  back  to  work  at 
soneihiiig  sensible. 

BiiK.  Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know  if  you'll 
jest  do  me  a  little  favor. 

Le.m.  {pitzzle<l).  Why,  sartain,  Cap'n,  always  glad  to  do 
anythin'  fer  you. 

Ber.     Well,  Sammy  took  three  pipes. 

All.     Sammy  ? 

Lem.     My  Sammy  ? 

Obad.     Gosh  all  fog  horns  ! 

Ber.  Mr.  Pomeroy  stole  yours  from  Sammy.  You  wouldn't 
believe  the  boy,  he  was  afraid  of  you  and  he  took  some  pipes 
on  his  own  hook  to  make  his  story  sound  true. 

Obad.  Rp v.  Mr.  Peters  said  he  was  smart  and  by  Crismus, 
he  is  !      He's  too  smart  fer  you,  Lem  ! 

Lem.     Wal,  he'll  find  out  how  smart  I  am  when  I  get  home. 

Ber.     Lem,  you  promised  me  a  little  favor,  you  know? 

Lem.     Sure  ! 

Ber.     You  are  not  to  touch  Sammy. 

Le.m.  {astonished^.     I'm  not  to (Si/ddetily  stops  and 

grins.)     Well,  all  right.      You've  got  me,  Cap'n.      You  always 
did  spoil  that  kid.      Wal,  there's  still  another  pipe. 

Abner.  Yes,  mine.  I  dropped  it  when  i  broke  into  the 
post-office  last  night. 

All.     What?     You?     Abner ! 

Obad.     Fer  the  love  o'  Admiral  Sampson  what  fer? 

Abner  {steadily).  1  wanted  to  find  some  old  papers  in  a 
business  deal  between  your  father  and  me.  I  suppose  you 
remember  that  your  father  sold  me  this  whole  shore  property 
here  ? 

Obad.      Yes,  sartain. 

Abner.  Well,  I  found  out  right  after  I  bought  it  that  half 
the  land  didn't  belong  to  him  to  sell.     There  was  a  mistake  in 


56  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

his  liile  and  some  of  the  land  belonged  to  Nat's  father  and 
some  of  it  belonged  to  Miss  Cynthy's  father. 

Cyn.     Land  o'  goshen  ! 

Abneu.  They  didn't  seem  to  know.  They  must  have 
thought  old  Mr.  Daniels  knew  what  was  his  property.  I 
didn't  say  anything.  You  know  why  1  wanted  the  property 
and  the  money  1  have  made  here.  I  knew  if  they  realized  this 
land  was  theirs  they  wouldn't  have  sold.  'I  hey  would  have 
used  it  themselves.  J  knew  1  had  a  good  thing  and  1  kept  it. 
I  made  a  pile  and  I  kept  them  from  their  chance  of  makn^g 
money  when  shore  property  was  worth  iis  weight  in  gold.  I'hat 
day  has  long  gone  by,  but  I'm  ready  to  pay  Miss  Cynthy  what- 
ever seems  right.  I'll  leave  it  10  Cap'n  Cranberry  to  figure  it 
out.  1  have  offered  money  to  Nat  and  he  has  refused  to  take 
it.  He  wants  my  daughter  instead.  Well,  he  had  better  take 
my  money,  for  he  can't  have  my  daughter  unless  she  wants  him. 

Ariel  (^joyfully).     Father  ! 

Nat  {/urious/y).     Thunderation !  \^Exit. 

All.     Good  work  !     That's  the  talk,  Cap'n  Abner  ! 

Abner  {s/ow/y).  I  have  deceived  and  cheated  all  these 
years.  Of  course  I  realize  that  I've  got  to  lose  my  friends, 
that  I  will  be  the  talk  of  the  town. 

Ber.  I  don't  see  why.  Jl's  taken  a  pile  of  courage  to  come 
out  and  say  you  were  wrong  and  make  it  right.  If  your  neigh- 
bors are  good  friends  they  will  stand  by  you.  They  won't  go 
back  on  you. 

Obad.     That's  right,  Abner.     Of  course  we  won't. 

Lem.  And  there  ain't  a  mite  of  reason  why  any  one  should 
know  anything  about  this.  I  for  one  shan't  mention  it  to 
Hepsy,  and  (^grim/y)  I  guess  if  she  don't  know  it  you're  safe. 

CvN.  {earnestly').  And  I  ain't  got  the  least  bit  of  feeling 
against  you,  Cap'n  Abner. 

Abner.  Thank  you,  Cynthy.  Thank  you  all.  I  don't 
deserve  such  treatment  from  you. 

Lee.  Say,  Miss  Tinker,  just  because  you  are  suddenly 
coming  into  money  I  hope  you  won't  be  so  set  up  that  you'll 
bounce  your  boarders. 

Cyn.  Well,  I  guess  it  won't  be  such  an  awful  lot  o'  money 
that  I  need  to  be  set  up  too  high.  I  said  you  could  stay  as  long 
as  you  wanted  to  and  I  meant  it.      You  can. 

Lee.     Good  news ! 

Peter.  Rah,  rah,  rah  !  Thank  heaven  we  don't  lose  those 
muffins  ! 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  57 

Cyn.  (s//(ftfefi/y).  And  I  declare  to  goodness,  Mr.  Gordon, 
here's  a  s[jecial  delivery  letter  that  come  for  you.  [Gives  it  to 
him.  He  tears  it  open.)  I  thought  it  must  be  important  and 
1  come  out  to  look  for  you  and  so  mucli  has  happened  that  it 
went  clean  out  of  my  iiead. 

Lee.  Well,  say,  this  is  certainly  the  day  for  unusual  things 
to  liappen.     Look  at  this,  Pete  !      {Hands  the  /etter  to  Fetek.) 

Petek  {oi.iiiciiig  it  over).  What  now?  Well,  glory  be! 
Lislen,  you  who  heard  Mr.  Williams  denounce  Lee  this  morn- 
ing. I'he  fellow  who  was  guilty  in  the  Yale  mix  up  has  been 
found  out  and  tiiey  want  Lee  to  go  back  to  college.  His  father 
has  also  found  out  his  mistake  and  he  wants  Lee  to  go  back  to 
work  for  him. 

A  KIEL  (  s:oing  to  Lee).     Oh,  Lee,  I'm  so  glad  ! 

Lee.  Well,  they  are  just  too  late.  Lee  is  going  to  slay 
right  here  on  his  present  job  until  he  makes  good. 

Lem.  W^al,  I  guess  we  got  everything  cleared  up;  we  might 
as  well  be  moving  along. 

Ob.ad.  Gosh  all  fog  horns,  yes  !  I  been  so  excited  I  ain't 
had  hardly  a  bite  to  eat  to-day.  I'm  faintin'  dead  away  if  any 
one  should  ask  you. 

(Ber.  zvalks  to  door,  c,  and  stands  looking  out.  Cyn., 
Lee,  Peter,  Obad.  and  Lem.  exeunt.  Abner  starts  to 
folloiu,  then  looks  back  at  Beu.  uncertainly.  Ahiel  goes 
to  Abneu  and  throws  her  arms  around  him.  Bek. 
7vatches  them  from  the  door.) 

Ariel.     Oil,  dad,  I  can't  tell  you  how  happy  I  am. 

Abner.  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  it,  Arey.  I  come  mighty 
near  asking  you  to  sacrifice  your  happiness. 

Ariel  {j>'yfitlly).     But  you  didn't  quite  do  it  after  all. 

Abner.     Not  quite. 

Ariel.  Father  dear,  don't  think  anything  you  said  can 
make  a  bit  of  difference.  I  only  love  you  more  than  ever 
before. 

Abner.     Lord,  Arey,  what  can  I  say  to  a  thing  like  that  ? 

Ber.  (coming  foi-ward).  Say  you  are  a  fortunate  man  to 
have  such  a  daughter. 

.Abner.  Yes,  that's  what  I  ought  to  say.  It's  true.  I'm 
afraid  I  don't  realize  how  true.  {Pats  Ariel  on  the  shoulder.) 
Run  along,  little  girl,  and  be  happy.  (Ariel  exits.)  Captain 
Cranberry,  I 

Ber.     If  you  plea.se,  Abner,  I  don't  believe  I  can  talk  any 


58  CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY 

more  just  now.  If  you'd  just  leave  me  up  here  alone  for  a 
while.  It's  all  right  that  you  should  have  her.  It's  you  that's 
been  the  real  father  to  her.  You  have  had  the  privilege  that  I 
have  missed.  You — you  see  she's  Alicia's  little  girl  and  I've 
jest  got  to  get  over  it,  that's  all. 

Abxer  {grasping  his  hand).  All  right.  I  won't  talk. 
Some  day — later,  I'll  try  to  tell  you  all  that  I  feel.  [^Exit. 

(Ber.  stands  in  the  center  of  the  room  with  bowed  head.) 

Ber.     Alicia's  little  girl  !     {Slight pause.) 

Cyn.  (outside).  Arey !  Arey !  (Enters.)  Land,  Cap'n, 
I  thought  Arey  was  here.     Are  you  here  all  alone  ? 

Ber.  (slorvty).  Yes,  alone,  Cynthy.  The  way  I've  lived 
the  most  of  my  life.     The  way  I'll  always  have  to  live  it. 

Cyn.  My  land,  Cap'n,  you  must  be  dreadful  down  and  out 
to  talk  that  way. 

Ber.  I  ain't  a  mite  o'  good  to  any  one  on  the  face  of  the 
earth. 

Cyn.  You?  You  ain't?  Well,  I'd  like  to  see  the  man, 
woman  or  boy  in  Bay  Point  that  you  ain't  some  good  to. 
Cap'n  Berry,  1  didn't  suppose  you  ever  got  to  feeling  like  this. 
I  think  you  must  have  lost  sight  of  the  Beacon. 

Ber.  {suddenly  looking  up).  By  tunket.  Miss  Cynthy, 
you're  right  !  That's  jest  what  I've  done  !  I  reckon  I'm  kind 
of  tuckered  out.  I  was  jest  naturally  making  a  fool  of  myself, 
tiiinking  tiiere  weren't  nobody  on  earth  that  loves  me,  and  by 
Crismus,  why  should  there  be?  I  ain't  got  relations  same's 
other  men  and  1  ain't  got  no  right  to  expect  the  same  kind  of 
happiness  as  other  men.  Well,  I'll  set  sail  for  tlie  Point  and 
go  on' duty.  That's  the  thing  for  me  to  do.  I've  been  spend- 
ing too  much  time  over  here  and  I  need  to  go  to  work. 

Cyn.  Cap'n  Berry,  I  should  think  you  would  be  ashamed 
to  talk  so.  Nobody  loves  you  !  Why,  everybody  in  Bay  Point 
loves  you,  and  you  know  it. 

Bek.   {suddenly  and  bluntly).      Do  you.  Miss  Cynthy  ? 

Cy.v.  {very  much  confused  and  upset).  Wliy,  my  gracious, 
Cap'n  !      What  a  way  to  put  it  !      How  you  talk  ! 

Ber.  (looking  at  her  curiously).  I'm  a  regular' old  fool, 
Cynthy.  I've  had  this  on  my  mind  for  a  long  time  and  now, 
by  tunket,  I'm  going  to  get  it  off  and  then  I'll  stop  mooning 
around  like  a  sixteen-year-old  kid  !  The  first  day  I  met  you  I 
loved  you  and  I  have  been  loving  you  a  little  more  every  time 
I  have  seen  you  since.     I  wouldn't  want  you  to  marry  unless 


CAPTAIN    CRANBERRY  59 

it  meant  the  same  to  you  as  it  does  to  me,  and  1  can't  believe 
that's  possible.  I  reckon  1  know  what  you're  thinking.  I 
reckon  1  know  what  your  answer  will  be,  but  1  might  as  well 
have  it  from  you  straight.  {^Goes  to  her,  and  puts  his  hands 
on  her  shoulders.)  Cynthy,  do  you  think  it  would  be  possible 
for  you  lo  find  happiness  with  a  frosi-bitten  old  Cranberry? 

Cyn.   {looking  up  at  him).     I  think  it  would,  Cran,  if  you 
were  the  Berry. 


CURTAIN 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  BETTY 

A  Comedy  in  Tliree  Acts 
By  Walter  Ben  Hare 
Ten  male,  twelve  female  characters,  or  seven  males. and  seven  females 
by  doubling.      Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  two  easy  interiors.     Plays  a 
full  evening.      Betty,  a  moving  picture   star,  going  south  on  a  vacation, 
loses  her  memory  from   the   shock  of  a  railway  accident,  and  is  identihed 
as  a  rival,  Violet  Ostrich,  from  a  hand-bag  that  she  carries.     In  this  char- 
acter she  encounters  the  real  Violet,  who  has  just  eloped  with  Ned  O'llarc, 
and  mixes   things   up  sadly  both  for  herself  and  the  young  couple.     An 
exceptionally  bright,  clever  and  eft'eclive  play  that  can  be  highly  recom- 
mended.    Good  Negro,  Irish  and  eccentric  comedy  parts. 
Price,  35  cents 

CHARACTERS 

Lin  Leoxard,  J?e/?i/'«  o)ic  hi?s<  f/e^  Ethel  Kohlek,  a  high-school  admirer 

Major  Jartrek,   of     Wichita,  not  only  of  Belly.                                       ..      „  .„ 

bail,  hid  crooked.  Violet  Ostrich,  a  film  favorite,  NeiVi 

yKD  6' Hare,  a  Jolly  young  honeymooner.  bride.                                     .    .  .,     ^t  .  , 

Mr.   E.  Z.   Ostrich,  w/io  has  written  a  Uhh.  K.  l^i.  TUggxss,  a  guest  at  the  Hotel 

wonderful  picture -pUiy.  Poinseltia. 

Dr.  McXuTT,  so^Ki  ivory  from  the  neck  vp.  Daffodil  Diggixs,  her  daughter,  "  i  es, 

Jim  WlT,ES,  a  high-school  senior.  Mamma.'"                       .     ^^     ^  „ 

Archie,   a    black    bell-boy  at  the  Hotel  Jiiss  Chizzi.e,  our  of  the  Iforth  Georgia 

Poinsettiri.  Chizzles.                  „    ,    , 

Officer  Kiley, it;/io  always  does  his  duty.  Pearlie  Brown,  Violet's  maul,  a  widoio 

Officer  DrciAX,  from  Ihe  Emerald  Isle.  of  ebon  hue. 

Mr.  Ebexezer  (ji'HARB,  «  sicA- wifoi  anrf  Violet,   Violet   Ostrich's  little  girl  aged 

a  submeroed  tenth.  seren. 

Mrs   Ebe'xezeb  O'Haee,  "Birdie,"  the  'Di.\yio:sD,  Peai-lie's  lillle  girl  aged  sin 

other  nine-tenths.  and 

Aunt  Winnie,  Betty's  chaperone.  Betty,  the  star  of  the  Movagraph  Co. 
Lizzie  Monahan,  Betty's  maid,  with  a 

vivid  imagination. 

Jartree  mav  double  Dugan  ;  Ned  may  double  Riley  ;  Jim  may  double  Archie  ; 
Mrs.  O'Hare'niay  double  Elliel  ;  Auut  Winnie  may  donble  Pearlie  and  Lizzie 
may  double  Miss  C'liizzle,  thus  reducing  the  cast  to  seven  males  and  seveu  fe- 
males.   The  two  children  have  no  lines  to  speak. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act  I.    Betty's  apartments  near  New  York.    Married  in  haste. 
Act  ir.    Parlor  D  of  the  Hotel  Poinseltia,  Palm  Beech,  Fla.   Three  days  later. 
Betty  loses  her  memory. 
Act  III.    Same  scene  as  Act  I L    A  full  honeymoon. 

JUST  A  LITTLE  MISTAKE 

A  Comedy  in  One  Act 
By  Elizabeth  Gale 
One  male,  five  female  characters,  or  can  be  played  by  all  girls.  Cos- 
tames,  modern;  scenery,  an  easy  interior.  Plays  forty  minutes.  Mis. 
Hall  receives  a  cablegram  from  her  sister  Lucy  staling  that  Jerry 
will  arrive  that  day  and  begging  her  to  be  cordial.  Mis.  Ball  then  goes 
out  to  hire  a  cook,  leaving  three  young  friends  to  receive  the  unknown 
guest.  The  cook,  sent  down  from  the  agency  in  haste,  is  greeted  and 
entertained  as  Jerry  and  when  the  real  Jerry  (Miss  Gerakline  Take)  ar- 
rives she  is  sent  out  to  the  kitchen.  After  considerable  confusion  and  ex- 
citement she  is  discovered  to  be  the  "  Little  Miss  Take."  Strongly  rec- 
ommended. Price,  2j  cents 


THE  SUBMARINE  SHELL 

A  War  Play  in  Four  Acts 

By  Mansfield  Scott 

Seven  males,  four  females.     Coslumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  two  interiors. 

Plays   two    hours.     Royalty    for    amateur   perfonnance    Sio.oo    for   one, 

J 1 5.00   for  two  performances.     Inspector  Malcome   Steele,  of  the   U.  S. 

Secret   Service,  devotes  himself  in   this  thrilling   jilay  to  unravelling  the 

German  plots  that  surround  Prof.  Middlebrook's  submarine  shell  that  is  t« 

bring  the  downfall  of  the   Hun.     The  batt'.e  between  his  wits  and  those 

of  "  Tom  Cloff,"  the  German  secret  agent,  is  of  absorbing  interest.     An 

easy  and  effective  thriller  that  can  be  recommended  for  school  performance. 

Price,  35  cents 

CHARACTERS 

H.-^NS    Kraft,    alias    James  Detective  Albert  Bradbl'rv. 

Mc Grady.  INSPECTOR   Malco.me  Steele. 

Otto  Herman,  alias  William.  "Tom  Cloff." 

Mr.  Warren  Middlebkook.  Mrs.  Middlebrook. 

Monsieur  Charles  LeClair.  Eleanor  Middlebrook. 

Professor    Henry    Wester-  Margaret  Linden. 

berg.  Delia. 

SYNOPSIS 
Act  I.     The  living-room.     August  11,  after  dinner. 
Act  H.     Same  as  Act  I.     August  12,  i  :  30  p.  m. 
Act  hi.     The  private  laboratory.     That  evening,  7  rjo. 
Act  IV.     Same  as  Act  III.     Later,  10  p.  m. 

THE  AMERICAN  IDEA 

A  Sketch  in  One  Act 
By  Lily  Cartheiv 
Three  males,  two  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  an  interior. 
Plays  twenty  minutes.  Royalty  for  amateur  performance  $5.00.  Mignon 
Goldman,  following  the  American  Idea,  throws  off  the  parental  yoke 
and  marries  the  man  of  her  choice  and  not  the  choice  of  her  parents.  She 
brings  home  for  the  parental  blessing  John  Kelly.  Abe,  her  father,  is 
disconsolate  at  this  prospect  until  he  sees  John  and  recognizes  in  him  Yan 
Kele  Operchinsky,  rechristened  in  accordance  with  "The  American 
Idea."  Originally  produced  at  The  Peabody  Playhouse,  Boston.  Strongly 
recommended.  Price,  2J  cents. 

THE  CROWNING  OF  COLUMBIA 

A  Patriotic  Fantasy  in  One  Act 
By  Kathrine  F.  Carlyofi 
Twenty-five  boys  and  twenty-four  girls.  Costumes,  modern  and 
picturesque.  Nothing  requiied  in  the  way  of  scenery  but  a  platform. 
Plays  half  an  hour  or  less.  Columbia  is  approached  by  the  Foresters,  the 
Farmers,  the  Miners,  the  Pleasure  Seekers,  the  Ammunition  Workers  and 
even  the  Red  Cross  Workers,  all  asking  her  to  be  their  Queen,  but  it  is 
only  when  the  Soldiers  and  the  Red  Cross  Nurses  come,  asking  nothing 
and  giving  all,  that  she  yields.  Easy,  pretty,  timely,  and  strongly  reconv 
.-nended.     Introduces  music.  Price,  25  centi 


THE  AIR-SPY 

A  War  Play  in  Three  Acts 
By  Mansfield  Scott 
Twelve  males,  four  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  a  single  in- 
terior. Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  Royalty,  g'o.oo  for  first,  J?5.oo  for 
subsequent  performances  by  same  cast;  free  for  school  performance.  In- 
spector Steele,  of  the  Secret  Service,  sets  his  wits  agamst  those  of  German 
emissaries  in  their  plot  against  Dr.  Treadwell's  air  ship,  a  valuable  war 
invention,  and  baffles  them  after  an  exciting  pursuit.  An  easy  thriller, 
full  of  patriotic  interest.  Easy  to  get  up  and  very  effective.  Strongly 
recommended  for  school  performance.  Originally  produced  by  The 
Newton  (Mass.)  High  School. 

Price,  2S  ^^^t^ 

CHARACTERS 
Dr.  Henry  Treadwell,  inventor  of  the  Giant  Air-ship. 
Victor  Lawrence,  his  pretended  friend — a  German  spy. 
Harold  Felton,  of  the  United  States  Ar?ny. 
Carleton'  Evekton,  a  young  Englishman. 
Karl  Schone.man,  of  the  German  Secret  Service. 
Franz  Muller,  his  assistant. 
Arthur  Merrill,  also  of  the  United  States  Army. 
Inspector  Malcome  Steele,  of  the  United  States  Secret  Service. 
Henry  Gootner,  a  German  agent. 
Francis  Drury,  otte  of  Treadwell' s guests. 
Corporal  Thayer. 
Private  Freeman. 

Ruth  Treadwell,  TreadwelVs  daughter. 
Muriel  Lawrence,  Lawrence  s  daughter. 
Mrs.  Treadwell. 
Margaret  Linden,  a  friend  of  Ruth  s. 

The  Time. — America's  second  summer  in  the  war. 
The  Place. — A  deserted  mansion  on  a  small  island  near  East- 
port,  Maine. 

SYNOPSIS 
Act  \.  The  afternoon  of  June  loth. 
Act  II.     The  evening  of  September  2lst. 

Act  in.     Scene  I.    The  afternoon  of  the  next  day.   About  1:30. 
Scene  2.     An  hour  later. 

ART  CLUBS  ARE  TRUMPS 

A  Play  in  One  Act 
By  Mary  Moncure  Parker 
Twelve  females.     Costumes  of  1890  with  one  exception  ;  scene,  a  single 
easy  interior.     Plays  thirty  minutes.     Describes  the  trials  of  an  ambitious 
woman  who  desired    to    form    a  club  in  tlie  early  days  of  club  life   for 
women  about  thirty  years  ago,  before  the  days  of  telepiiones  and  auto- 
mobiles.    A  capital  play  for  ladies'  clubs  or  for  older  women  in  general. 
The  costumes  are  quaint  and  the  picture  of  life  in  the  year  of  the  Chicago 
World's  Fair  offers  an  amusing  contrast  to  the  present    Recommended. 
Price,  2j  cents 


HAMILTON 

A  Play  in  Four  Acts 
By  Mary  P.  Hamlin  and  George  Ariiss 
Eleven  males,  five  females.  Costumes  of  the  period ;  scenery,  three 
interiors.  Plays  a  full  evening.  Royalty  for  amateur  performance  where 
an  adniission  is  charged,  $25.00  for  each  performance.  Special  royalty  of 
Sio.oo  for  performance  by  scliools.  This  play,  well  known  through  the 
performances  of  Mr.  George  Ariiss  still  continuing  in  the  principal  theatres, 
presents  the  builders  of  the  foundations  of  the  American  Republic  as  real 
people,  and  its  story  adroitly  illustrates  not  merely  the  various  abiUly  of 
its  leading  figure.  Alexander  Hamilton,  but  the  unconquerable  courage 
and  determination  that  were  his  dominating  characteristics.  The  vivid- 
ness witli  which  it  vitalizes  the  history  of  its  period  and  the  power  with 
which  it  empiiasizes  Hamilton's  most  admirable  and  desirable  quality, 
make  it  most  suitable  for  school  use,  for  which  special  terms  have  been 
arranged,  as  above.  Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  60  cents 

CHARACTERS 
Alexander  Hamilton.  Colonel  Lear. 

General  Schuyler.  First  Man. 

Thomas  Jefferson. 

Monroe.  Betsy  Hamilton. 

Giles.  Angelica  Church. 

Tallyrand.  Mrs.  Reynolds. 

Jay.  Soldier's  Wife. 

Zekiel.  Melissa. 

Reynolds. 

THE  SCENES 

Act  I. — The  Exchange  Coffee  House  in  Philadelphia. 

Act  II. — A  room  in  Alexander  Hamilton's  house  in  Phila- 
delphia.     (The  office  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury.) 

Act  III. — The  same.     (Six  weeks  later.) 

Act  IV. — A  reception  room  in  Alexander  Hamilton's  house. 
(The  next  morning.) 

THE  MINUTE  MAN 
A  Patriotic  Sketcli  for  Girls  of  the  High  School  Age  in  a 
Prologue  and  Three  Episodes 
By  Nellie  S.  Messer 
Thirteen    girls.     Costumes,    modern.    Colonial   and    of  the  Civil  War 
period.     Scenery,  three  interiors.     Plays- an  hour  and  a  half     Betty  and 
Eleanor,  typically  thoughtless  girls  of  the   present  day,  run  across  the 
diaries  of  Bess's  mother  and  grandmother,  which  relate  the  experiences  of 
girls  of  iheir  age  and  kind  at  previous  periods  of  their  country's  history, 
and  learn  a  vivid  lesson  in  i)atriolism.     The  scenes  of  the  past  are  shown 
in  dramatic  episodes  visualizing  the  matter  of  the  diaries  that  they  read. 
A  very  clever  arrangement  of  a  very  stimulating  subject,  strongly  recom- 
mended for  all  occasions  where  the  promotion  of  patriotism  is  desired.    A 
timely  lesson  strongly  enforced. 

Price,  2Sseftts 


B*  01*  Pinero'$  Plays 

Price,  60  €etits  6acb 


m)||r\  /'•ii  iMMpi  Play  in  Four  Acts.  Six  males,  five  females. 
lulU-vlLnilllEiLi  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  three  interiors. 
Plays  two  and  a  half  hours. 

THE  NOTORIOUS  MRS.  EBBSMITH  i^"  li^ht 

males,  five  females.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  ail  interiors. 
Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  PRHFI  \C  ATF  Pl^y  i°  Four  Acts.  Seven  males,  five 
iriEi  1  IVvFLilVJ/VlC  females.  Scenery,  three  interiors,  rather 
elaborate ;  costumes,  modern.    Plays  a  f  ul.l  evening, 

TUr  QrUnni  MIQTPFQ^I  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  Nine  males, 
inCi  OV/nwULilT1101I\£iOiJ  seven  females.  Costumes,  mod- 
ern; scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  SECOND  MRS.  TANQUERAY  Igt'^IaT^.^^Va 

females.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  three  interiors.  Plays  a 
full  evening. 

QWFFT  I  AVFlSinFR  Comedyln  Three  Acts.  Seven  males, 
OVTCiEil  LinVEini/EiIV  four  females.  Scene,  a  single  interior, 
costumes,  modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

TUF  THTTNnPDRni  T  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Ten  males, 
iriEi  lllUilLfEtlvOVfLil  nine  females.  Scenery,  three  interi- 
ors; costumes,  modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  TIMF^  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Six  males,  seven  females. 
iriu  lllTlEiO  Scene. a  single  interior;  costumes, modern.  Plays 
a  full  evening. 


THF  WFAIfFR  QFY  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  Eight  males, 
I  llEi  fT£i/\I\.C>I\  OCA  eight  females.  Costumes,  modern; 
scenery,  two  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

AWIFF  WITHniTT    A    QMIT  F    Comedy  in    Three  Acts. 
TllrL    nllnUUI    A  OlYllLEi    Five  males,  four  females. 
Costumes,  modern ;  scene,  a  single  interior.    Plays  a  full  evening. 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

l^alter  H.  pafeer  &  Company 

No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


%f)t  WiiXimi  Waxxtn  €bition 
of  Paps 


AS  YOn  TIFF  IT  Comedy  in, Five  Acts.  Thirteen  males,  fonr 
aj  lUU  I4IAI4  II  females.  Costumes,  picturesque ;  scenery,  va- 
ried.   Plays  a  full  evening. 

TAMn  T  F  I*r8,ma  in  Five  Acts.  Nine  males,  five  females.  Cos- 
wAiiiU4l4i<    timies,  modern  ;  ecenery,  varied.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

INfiOMAff  I*J*y  in  Five  Acts.  Thirteen  males,  three  females. 
IliUUulAIV    Scenery  varied ;  costumes,  Greek.   Plays  a  full  evening. 

M  ABY  STUART  Tragedy  in  Five  Acts.  Thirteen  males,  fonr  fe- 
ulAI\l  i^lUAIil  males,  and  supernumeraries.  Costumes,  of  the 
period ;  scenery,  varied  and  elaborate.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE  ^a?e^s'rh%?^1nl5L^•  l7^^lf, 

picturesque  ;  scenery  varied.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

DICHFT  IFFI  ^^^y '"  Five  Acts.  Fifteen  males,  two  females.  Sc«n- 
niwllLfLflLfU  ery  elaborate ;  costumes  of  the  period.  Plays  a  full 
evening. 

mpiy  if  C    ComiSdy  in  Five  Acts.    Nine  males,  five  females. 
ni  I  AL<iJ    Scenery  varied ;  costumes  of  the  period.    Plays  a 
full  evening. 

SHE  STOOPS  TO  CONQUER  ^:^Anrff^^:^Le^^^ 

ried ;  costumes  of  the  period.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

TWEFTH  NIGHT;  OR,  WHAT  YOD  WILL  "^^"^^e^J^:, 

three  females.  Costumes,  picturesque ;  ecenery,  varied.  Plays  a 
full  evening. 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

Salter  1^,  "Bafier  S,  Company 

No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 

1S11532 


[ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  NX.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 

00034330901 


